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PLATO THE TEACHER 

Being Selections from the Apology, Euthydemus, 

Protagoras, Symposium, Ph^drus, Republic, 

and Ph/edo of Plato 

edited ivith introduction and notes 



BY 
WILLIAM LOWE BRYAN, PH.D. 

PROFESSOR OF PHILOSOPHY, INDIANA UNIVERSITY 

AND 

CHARLOTTE LOWE BRYAN, A.M. 



1 " 



? ' 



NEW YORK 

CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS 

1897 






THE LIBRARY 

OF CONGRESS 

WASHINGTON 



Copyright, 1897, by 
CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS 



TROW DIRECTORY 

PRINTING AND BOOKBINDING COMPANY 

NEW YORK 



.:/• 



In memory 

OF 

HENRY BATES 
A lover of men 



TABLE OF CONTENTS 

PAGE 

Preface, ix 

General Introduction, xiii 

Introduction to Apology, 3 

Apology, 5 

Introduction to Euthydemus, 33 

Euthydemus, 35 

Introduction to Protagoras, . . . . . 63 

Protagoras, 67 

Introduction to the Symposium, . . . .105 

The Symposium, 107 

Introduction to Ph/edrus, . . . . . . .137 

Ph^edrus, 141 

Introduction to the Republic, 181 

The Republic : 

Book I., 187 

Book II., 199 

Book III., 227 

Book IV., . .251 

Book V., . .279 

Book VI., 291 

Book VII., 319 

Book VIII., . . . 342 

Book IX., 373 

Book X., ' . . . . 394 

Suggestions on the Study of the Ph^edo, . . 413 
Ph^edo, .417 



PREFACE 

Plato's fame as a philosopher prevents many 
from reading him far enough to discover that he 
is also a teacher of the folk. He is one of very 
few who can speak at times for the masters alone, 
and at other times so that the " common people hear 
him gladly." The historic Socrates drew about him 
all sorts and conditions of men, from the philoso- 
pher to the rake, each by the proper magic ; and all 
sorts and conditions of men may yet feel something 
of his magic through the dialogues of Plato. To 
help publish the open secret that Plato speaks with 
simplicity and charm and power to all of us, is the 
purpose of this book. 

The Apology is placed first as the best possible 
introduction to the life and spirit of Socrates. The 
Euthydemus shows Socrates in contrast with the 
baser Sophists, the Protagoras in contrast with the 
superior Sophists. The Symposium and PhasdrulT 
show philosophically and dramatically Plato's con- 
ception of love as the basis of science and of teach- 
ing. This is Plato's most important contribution to 
Education. The Republic gives Plato's entire scheme 
of education, as determined by the individual and 



X PREFACE 

by his social relations. This is an inexhaustible mine 
of wisdom for the teacher. The Phaedo is intro- 
duced partly for its own sake and partly because all 
Plato's thought about the education of man was de- 
termined by his conception of the absolute nature 
and destiny of man. 

The introductions to the several dialogues are in- 
tended only to give a few suggestive clews which 
may prove useful to elementary readers. The in- 
troduction to the Phsedo is an outline for the study 
of that dialogue. 

The notes constitute a dictionary of the biograph- 
ical, geographical, and mythological terms or refer- 
ences in the text. Scholars will observe that the 
notes have been written with great reserve. While 
we have sought the highest accuracy in every line, 
we have sought no less to exclude all antiquarian 
lore that would not directly assist the elementary 
reader to understand the text. 

In the preparation of this book the endeavor 
throughout has been to let Plato speak for himself. 
The notes and introductions are intended only to 
elucidate and not to criticise. To prevent possible 
misunderstanding, however, it may be well to state 
a few of the more important points in which we do 
not accept Plato's teaching, (i.) It is scarcely neces- 
sary to say that the modern Christian world has out- 
grown many of Plato's ideas of morality. In criti- 
cising these, however, it should be remembered that 
no one is wholly free from the influence of his age, 
and that in many things Plato was better than his 
age. (2.) We prefer actual democracy even to 
Plato's ideal aristocracy. (3.) We believe that con- 



PREFACE XI 

tact with the earth through the senses and hands is 
not, as Plato seems to have believed, a degradation 
to the soul, but is a spiritual necessity. (4.) We be- 
lieve that Plato's conception of God and of man's 
relation to God, far as it is beyond that which is 
often found among Christians, falls far short of that 
shown to us by our Lord. 

The translation used is that of Jowett (the Charles 
Scribner's Sons' Edition). In a few cases where 
Jowett uses a foreign phrase or an expression pre- 
senting special difficulty to those unread in the 
classics, slight alterations have been made. 

In the preparation of the notes we have used the 
Greek text of Plato; Liddell and Scott's Greek Dic- 
tionary ; * Harper's Classical Dictionary ; Johnson's 
Cyclopaedia; Smith's Classical Dictionary; Bulfinch's, 
Guerber's, and Gayley's Manuals of Mythology ; 
Jowett's Introductions and Analyses ; The Index to 
Jowett's Plato, third edition ; Zeller's Plato and the 
Older Academy ; Zeller's Socrates ; Grote's History 
of Greece ; Grote's Plato ; Bosanquet's Companion 
to Plato's Republic ; Socrates, Talks with Socrates 
about Life, Talks with Athenian Youth, A Day in 
Athens with Socrates, published by Charles Scrib- 
ner's Sons ; and Webster's Dictionary, on the pro- 
nunciation of proper names. 

* Referred to in notes as L. & S. 



GENERAL INTRODUCTION 

THE ATHENS OF PLATO. 

Plato was born at Athens about 427 B.C. His 
native city was then at the height of its prosperity. 
At the beginning of that century the Greek states, 
often at war with each other, and always jealous of 
each other, had been forced to unite in a fight for 
life against the innumerable hordes of the Persian 
Empire. Athens was foremost in this fight, and 
when the Persians were finally driven away, she 
succeeded in placing herself at the head of a power- 
ful league of Greek cities. Accordingly, although 
the city had been captured and burned by the Per- 
sians, she presently became, under the direction of 
the statesman Pericles, far stronger politically and 
commercially than ever before. A variety of causes 
made this period also a golden age for many of the 
arts. The city had to be rebuilt. This was done 
under direction of the sculptor Phidias, with a 
splendor and artistic perfection perhaps never else- 
where equalled. The democratic Athenian govern- 
ment, according to which questions of State were 
decided in a general assembly of all the people, 
gave occasion for the development of oratory of 



XIV GENERAL INTRODUCTION 

the highest order. Finally, in this century, the 
drama which had gradually developed in connection 
with the worship of Dionysus, came to classic per- 
fection in the comedies of Aristophanes and the 
tragedies of iEschylus, Sophocles, and Euripides. 

Athens had yet another glory of which some of 
her citizens were not proud. She had become the 
principal seat of philosophy. In order to appreciate 
the state of philosophy at this time, and the feeling 
of the people toward it, we must give a brief ac- 
count of the preceding history of philosophy. 

GREEK PHILOSOPHY BEFORE PLATO. 

The deliberate search after scientific or philo- 
sophic truth arose first, so far as we know, about two 
hundred years before the time of Plato, among the 
Greeks who lived on the western coast of Asia 
Minor. There were a dozen Greek cities on that 
coast and the adjacent islands of the ^Egean archi- 
pelago, as far back as authentic history runs. These 
cities were fortunately placed. They had at their 
back a prosperous country and before them the sea. 
They developed a great trade all around the ^Egean 
and Mediterranean Seas, — with Tyre and Sidon, 
with Egypt, and with the widely scattered Greek 
colonies. They became very rich. But that was 
not all. By contact with new peoples, they ac- 
quired new ideas and the habit of looking out for 
new ideas. They were without doubt especially 
indebted to Egypt. Indirectly through Phoenicia, 
they got from Egypt the alphabet which is substan- 
tially the one we use to-day. Besides this invalu- 



[ GENERAL INTRODUCTION XV 

able gift, they got from the Egyptians a first lesson 
in science. The study of the heavenly bodies had 
been from ancient times part of the religious duty 
of the Egyptian priests, who therefore had consider- 
able knowledge of astronomy. On account of the 
yearly overflow of the Nile, it had been necessary 
to have some method of measuring land in order to 
re-establish boundary lines. The Egyptians had 
accordingly some knowledge of geometry. In the 
course of time Greek travelers acquired this learn- 
ing. We find, for example, that Thales, a Greek of 
Miletus, predicted an eclipse of the sun which oc- 
curred in 585 B.C. 

But, as I have said, these Greeks acquired by 
their travel, not only new ideas, but also an eager 
curiosity for more new ideas. They were not at all 
satisfied to accept the learning of Egypt and of 
Tyre and Sidon, as they found it. That learning 
helped to free them somewhat from faith in the 
myths by which their ancestors had explained all 
things in heaven and earth, but gave them no suffi- 
cient substitute for the old faith. It is, at any rate, 
certain that about 650 B.C., a few sages in the Ionic 
cities were beginning to grope toward a natural 
explanation of things. In the movements of the 
heavenly bodies, for example, where the supersti- 
tious saw only the caprice of the gods, they had 
learned to see an order such that future events 
could be predicted. This led some of the wiser 
men to believe that there is an order ruling in 
nature everywhere. They began to raise questions 
accordingly, not only about the true length of the 
year, and the means of measuring time, but also 



XVI GENERAL INTRODUCTION 

very general questions, such as: What is the world 
made of? What force has caused it to be gener- 
ated? What law has ruled in this generation ? We 
have authentic accounts of more than a dozen dis- 
tinguished men, living between 650 B.C. and the 
time of Plato's birth (427 B.C.), whose lives were 
spent in trying to answer questions of this sort. 

If you read the answers they were able to make 
to these questions, ignorantly or carelessly enough, 
you may think them little better than childish. One 
said that the world is made of water, which thickens 
and hardens to make solid bodies, and thins to make 
air and fire. Another said that the world is made 
of air ; another that it is made of fire ; another that it 
is made of four elements — earth, air, fire, and water. 
Another said that all things are in eternal motion 
and that when we think that anything is at rest, our 
senses deceive us. Another said that all things are 
eternally at rest and that when we think we see 
motion, our senses deceive us. One sa-id that all 
things in nature move by numerical harmony, like 
the notes of the musical scale. /Another said that 
love and hate are the two forces that bring all 
things together or keep them apart. More than one 
of them expressed in some form the belief that the 
evolution of the world is directed by one supreme 
intelligence. Many of them expressed views on par- 
ticular scientific questions which are very similar to 
those now accepted. So, for example, Anaximander, 
who lived about 600 B.C., held some views about 
the structure of the solar system which were more 
nearly correct than the theories generally accepted 
down to the time of Copernicus (a.d. 1543). I shall 



GENERAL INTRODUCTION xvil 

not, however, discuss the value of this early philoso- 
phizing- further than to say that the more deeply 
one studies it, the more surely one sees that these 
men were not fools, and that, in spite of their crudi. 
ties, some of them were giants of all time. What I 
wish now to do is to discuss their influence upon 
the public mind of Greece. 

As might be expected, they produced one kind 
of effect upon the few who paid special attention 
to them and an altogether different effect upon the 
general public. Even with the former, the effect 
was by no means always flattering to the philoso- 
phers. Just in the period between the Persian wars 
and the birth of Plato, a great many of the Greeks 
who devoted themselves to learning were coming 
to the conclusion that philosophy was a failure. 
" The philosophers," the)' said in substance, " tell us 
that we cannot trust our senses for the truth of any- 
thing, and that we must learn the truth of them. 
We go to them and find that they contradict one 
another at every point. The truth is," some went 
on to say, " there is no truth which is truth always 
and everywhere. The world is different at every 
point and is always changing. Men are all different 
from each other and every one is constantly chang- 
ing. How can a changing man find anything in a 
changing world which every other man will always 
find just so? It is impossible. That is true for 
each man which he finds true. Let us cease the 
vain search for a universal and absolute truth. Let 
us be content to learn how to be practically effect- 
ive. Let us learn how to fight, how to write, how 
to speak, how to plead in the courts and before the 



XV111 GENERAL INTRODUCTION 

assembly of the people. Let us acquire skill to get 
on in the world. There is no other wisdom than 
this." 

The class of men who took substantially this 
position called themselves Sophists, that is, w T ise 
men. Some of them were very talented, very 
thoroughly schooled in the learning of that time, 
and very skillful in the practical arts which they 
professed to teach. They gave special attention to 
language — that is, to grammar, rhetoric, and oratory. 
They are given credit for the development of Greek 
prose style, as it appears, for example, in the ora- 
tions of Demosthenes, a century later, and indirect- 
ly for the development of the same art among the 
Romans. Some of the Sophists were, of course, in- 
ferior. I need only refer to the dialogue Euthy- 
demus, in this volume, to show that some of them 
were despicably so. Such men cared for nothing 
but their own advantage, and were, without doubt, 
gross corrupters of the youth. 

Now, the general public did not draw any fine 
distinctions between the superior Sophists, such as 
Protagoras, and the baser sort, such as Euthydemus 
and Dionysodorus. Moreover, the public did not 
distinguish between the Sophists and the philoso- 
phers. Although the philosophers had sought ear- 
nestly for the truth, and believed that they had found 
some truth, while the Sophists believed all such 
search vain, the Athenian public, intelligent as they 
were in many things, lumped all men of learning 
together, and called them Sophists. As a result 
of this failure to distinguish between men whose 
views were directly opposed, the public attributed 



GENERAL INTRODUCTION XIX 

to all of them substantially all the faults they found 
or suspected in any of them. Some of the philoso- 
phers had outgrown the popular religion ; the people 
were accordingly quick to believe that any learned 
man was an atheist. Some of the Sophists rejected 
the conventional notions of morals ; every scholar 
was, therefore, readily suspected of being a cor- 
rupter of the youth, and if any youth who consorted 
with scholars turned out badly, his ruin was charged 
up to the new learning. 

The public opinion, with its muddle-headed oppo- 
sition to the whole movement of science and phi- 
losophy, was expressed perfectly in a comedy by 
the great Athenian, Aristophanes. The story of 
the play, called " The Clouds," runs as follows: 
A certain man finds himself in debt, without ability 
to pay. He is told that there is a school of the 
Sophists where he can be taught how to argue 
himself out of all his debts. The school is de- 
scribed, with Socrates as chief teacher. Socrates 
is represented as engaged in profound investiga- 
tions on various nonsensical questions about things 
in heaven and beneath the earth. He is calculat- 
ing, for example, the distance from one place to 
another in terms of the foot of a flea. The man 
is taught how to argue away his debt ; but his 
son gets from the same teachers a lesson which 
enables him to prove his right to thrash his father. 
It is easy to see how the average Athenian, who 
looked and laughed at this play, would lump all 
the philosophers together, and attribute to each of 
them, but especially to Socrates, a nonsense and a 
knavery which would bring the country to ruin. 



XX GENERAL INTRODUCTION 

So far nothing- has been said about the real belief 
and purposes of Socrates or of Plato. What it is 
necessary to see is the actual situation which they 
faced. 

i. There were the old philosophers, reaching back 
nearly two hundred years to Thales of Meletus, who 
had been floundering and struggling toward the 
truth about nature, without coming to an agree- 
ment. 

2. There were the Sophists, some of them scholars 
and gentlemen, some of them ignorant tricksters, 
who rejected all the foregoing philosophy, and, more 
or less, also the popular ideas of religion, law, and 
morals. 

3. There were the Athenian people, proud of 
their military glory, their growing wealth, and their 
beautiful city, but ignorant of the new learning and 
hostile to it. 

PLATO'S MASTER. 

The foregoing pages touch the principal features 
— political, economic, artistic, philosophical, and so- 
cial, of the situation in Athens at the time of Plato's 
birth. One element in the situation has been barely 
mentioned, Plato's master, Socrates. 

Socrates had more influence upon Plato and upon 
subsequent philosophy than had any of the men or 
conditions heretofore mentioned. I shall not, how- 
ever, in this place give an account of his life and 
teachings. I refrain from doing this solely because 
those who read this book may become acquainted 
with Socrates far better, as well as far more delight- 
fully, through the dialogues of Plato that are given 



GENERAL INTRODUCTION XXI 

here, than from any biography that could be written 
about him. Indeed, one main object of this book is 
just to make those who read it personally acquainted 
with Socrates. There is, however, one matter of 
fact, in this connection, which should be thoroughly 
understood. 

Socrates wrote nothing. We know of his life 
and teachings chiefly through the writings of two 
of his disciples, Xenophon and Plato. Xenophon 
probably told the truth about his master as well as 
he could. But Xenophon was like some of those 
who heard the teachings of our Saviour — he heard 
the words, but not their deeper spiritual sense. 
Plato understood Socrates better than any one 
else did, and he could have given us, without 
doubt, a trustworthy picture of his master. The 
difficulty in getting at the real Socrates through the 
writings of Plato is this. All Plato's writings are in 
dialogue. In almost all the dialogues, Plato's own 
opinions are put into the mouth of Socrates. Plato's 
own views, however, became in the course of time 
considerably different from those of his master. It is, 
consequently, impossible to be sure just how far the 
speeches of Socrates, in Plato's dialogues, represent 
the actual opinions of Socrates, and how far they 
represent opinions acquired by Plato after his 
master's death. It is, indeed, true that Plato's phi- 
losophy was developed out of that of Socrates, and 
we may be sure that, as a rule, in ascribing his own 
opinions to Socrates, Plato did not greatly violate 
the spirit of the master's teaching. It should, how- 
ever, be understood that the Socrates who speaks in 
Plato's writings is more or less a dramatic creation. 



XX11 GENERAL INTRODUCTION 

PLATO'S LIFE. 

Of Plato's life and work only the bare outlines 
will be given here. He was born about 427 B.C., of a 
wealthy and aristocratic family. He had the best 
education which the world then afforded, becom- 
ing in time master of all branches of learning then 
known. He was particularly proficient in mathe- 
matics. When he was twenty years old, he became 
the disciple of Socrates, and lived with the master 
until the death of the latter in 399. Later, he trav- 
eled in Egypt, Cyrene, Italy, and Sicily, pursuing 
philosophic studies. In Sicily he was sold as a 
slave. After being ransomed, he opened a school 
of mathematics and philosophy in Athens, where, 
among others, he had Aristotle for a pupil. Twice, 
by invitation of Dion, ruler of Sicily, he attempted 
to apply his political theories to an actual govern- 
ment, but both attempts were failures. His death 
occurred at Athens, 347 B.C. 

No philosophy can be adequately represented by 
an outline, even if the outline were made by the 
philosopher himself, because the definite doctrines 
which can be stated in an outline are always to be 
understood in connection with the thousand subtle 
meanings that lie between his lines. There is, how- 
ever, special reason why Plato cannot be represent- 
ed by an outline of his philosophy. He was, in fact, 
far more than a mere philosopher. He was a dra- 
matic artist. He was more than that. He was a 
lover of men. And in the measure that he was 
these three — philosopher, dramatist, and lover — he 
was a teacher. 



GENERAL INTRODUCTION XX111 

PLATO THE PHILOSOPHER. 

In this place will be given first an account of 
Plato's central doctrine, and then a view of his atti- 
tude toward the life of his day. 

The Doctrine of Ideas: Plato's doctrine of ideas 
varied at different periods of his life. Its established 
features may be stated as follows: 

Every one knows what a common noun is, as tree, 
horse, stone, etc. A moment's thought will show 
that common nouns may be arranged in a system. 
Children recognize some such system in their game 
of twenty questions, when they ask if the thing you 
have thought of is material or immaterial ; if mate- 
rial, whether it is animal, vegetable, or mineral ; if 
an animal, whether aland animal or a water animal; 
and so on until they have run down the particular 
thing or class of things thought of. In any such 
system the special classes run together into gen- 
eral classes, until at last all run together into one 
class, say the class being, which includes all beings, 
divine and human, living and dead. 

Now Plato believed (i) that corresponding to 
every common noun there is a real, eternal, and per- 
fect being, in the likeness of which and by the power 
of which every particular being coming under that 
class is made ; (2) that, corresponding to the system 
of common nouns, there is a system of such real, 
eternal, and perfect beings ; and (3) that, correspond- 
ing to the highest common noun, there is a Highest 
Being, which is the prime source of all lower beings 
and so of all things whatever. The real, eternal, and 
perfect beings corresponding to our common nouns 



XXIV GENERAL INTRODUCTION 

Plato called ideas. He did not, therefore, use the 
word idea in the sense that we are most accustomed 
to. The highest idea is God. 

Now while he believed that these ideas are pure, 
holy, and beautiful, he believed that the particular 
objects which the world that we see is made of — the 
actual trees, horses, etc. — are only imperfect copies 
of their ideas, and are, therefore, not at all pure, 
holy, and beautiful, but just the contrary. The 
goodness of the ideas and the badness of particular 
things is the central thought of Plato's philosophy. 
Man has or may have knowledge of both. With his 
eyes and ears and other senses he comes into con- 
tact with the world of things. With his soul he may 
know directly the world of ideal being, which cul- 
minates in God. Contact with the world through 
the senses, gives us not true or valuable knowl- 
edge, but only the appearance of true wisdom. 
Contact with the eternal ideal beings, by means of 
the eye of the soul, gives us the only true and divine 
wisdom. 

To account for the fact that the soul may know 
the ideal beings, Plato held that the soul has existed 
always ; that before being born into this earthly life 
the soul lived in the world of ideal beings ; that the 
soul retains a memory of its former life ; that we 
may recall the knowledge we had in a former life, 
if we will withdraw our senses from the things of 
the world and give ourselves to diligent reflection. 
That is, by diligent reflection, we are able to recall 
more and more accurately the system of real beings, 
corresponding to our system of common nouns, and 
at last we are able to rise in this way to a contem- 



GENERAL INTRODUCTION XXV 

plation of the Highest Idea, that is, God. On this 
point read the parable given in Book VII. of the 
Republic. 

As we are misled by the senses, when we seek 
knowledge through them, so we are misled by them 
in regard to the conduct of individual and social 
life. The senses are the source of all our sinning. 
We should die to the body and the things of the 
body and turn our souls altogether toward the ideal 
being. By contemplation of and obedience to the 
ideal being Ave shall be made more and more good 
and beautiful in this life, and after death we shall 
reenter the ideal world where we shall be in the 
company of perfect souls. As our individual life, so 
our political life should be wholly directed by the 
divine truth. This is possible only through the 
guidance of men who have purified themselves from 
the world, and by long consecration have come to 
see the divine truth. That is, the State should be 
governed by the wisest and best, and all others will 
find their true interest in obeying them. 

Plato s attitude toward the life of his time : Prob- 
ably very few of those who read this book will ac- 
cept Plato's doctrine of ideas in the form in which 
he presented it. However that may be, no one 
should fail to see that what Plato stood for most 
centrally, along with the prophets and apostles of 
every age, was the reality and power of the truth. 
He believed in the truth ; that the truth is one and 
eternal ; that the truth rules all things both great 
and small in the world and in the lives of men ; that 
men need the truth and no other thing to compass 
them about in infancy with influences that make for 



XXVI GENERAL INTRODUCTION 

righteousness, and to rise in their souls as clear 
knowledge and as holy purpose, with their growth 
into manhood. This central faith in the reality and 
power of truth determined Plato's attitude toward 
every important question that met him, — toward the 
old philosophy, toward the theories and practices 
of the Sophists, toward the business, art, religion, 
and politics of his nation, and toward the con- 
duct of his own life. Let us look at each of these 
points. 

The Old Philosophers : Plato did not join the 
Sophists and the general public in scorn of the old 
philosophers. He believed that their long search 
for the truth had not been altogether in vain. He 
believed that some of them were worth the deepest 
study he could give them. He made extensive and 
expensive journeys to meet living disciples of the 
various schools of philosophy. There is a tradition 
that he paid a sum equal to about $1,600 for one small 
book on the teachings of Pythagoras. It is at any 
rate certain that he was a profound student of Py- 
thagoras, of Parmenides, of Heracleitus, and doubt- 
less of other old masters. He was not afraid that such 
study of his predecessors would affect his own orig- 
inality. No passage can be recalled which shows 
that he was jealous of any of his predecessors or 
anxious to prove his own superiority. In the The- 
astetus there is a reference to one of the old masters 
which seems to be not ironical, but characteristic 
of Plato's genuine reverence for the greater philoso- 
phers. "I have a kind of reverence," he says, "for 
the great leader himself, Parmenides, venerable and 
awful as in Homeric language he may be called : 



GENERAL INTRODUCTION XXV11 

him I should be ashamed to approach in a spirit un- 
worthy of him." 

The Sophists : Plato was unceasingly hostile to the 
doctrines and practices of the Sophists. He clearly 
saw that the Sophists were not all upon the same 
level. The best and the worst of them one may be- 
come acquainted with in two of the dialogues given 
in this volume — Euthydemus and Protagoras. Eu- 
thydemus and his brother, Dionysodorus, are exhib- 
ited as substantially a pair of confidence men. They 
are ignorant, shallow, unscrupulous tricksters. Their 
game is the half-grown youth who has much money 
and little judgment. When they have dazzled and 
corrupted and robbed the boy, their work is done. 
In the dialogue, Plato scorches these men with his 
irony, and holds them up to public shame as merci- 
lessly as Aristophanes did in the comedy their kind 
to which I have referred. 

In the Protagoras we are introduced to Sophists 
of a very different kind. Protagoras, Hippias, and 
Prodicus were men who had earned distinction by 
attainments which are honored in almost all civilized 
countries. They were masters of the learning and 
of the arts of the time. Judged by any ordinary 
standard, the Sophists of this class would receive an 
honorable if not an eminent place in the history of 
culture. It is held by some scholars that Plato was 
not just to them. It is possible that he was not, 
although, indeed, he shows very clearly that he was 
by no means ignorant of their many gifts and accom- 
plishments. The reason for his unfailing antago- 
nism to every kind of Sophist is not ignorance of 
their attainments, as judged by ordinary standards. 



XXV111 GENERAL INTRODUCTION 

He utterly refuses to judge them by ordinary 
standards. Everything is eternally judged by one 
standard, the absolute truth. Judged by this stand- 
ard, the most accomplished Sophist stands self- 
condemned. He does not believe in the absolute 
truth. He does not seek to know it. He does not 
seek to obey it. He has no faith in anything except 
the power of artifice. His learning, since it never 
leads toward the absolute truth, is " the art of giving, 
by quibbling criticism, an appearance of knowl- 
edge." His rhetoric is not a true but a spurious 
art, which does not seek to supply true food for the 
soul, but only to concoct highly spiced dishes which 
shall pamper and corrupt the people. 

Athens: What did Plato think of his own city, — 
its art, its religion, its politics ? If you glance again 
at the brief account which has been given of the 
many glories of Athens at that time, or, better, if 
you become thoroughly acquainted with the history 
of Athens, you may well think that any Athenian 
had a right to be proud of his birthplace, — its com- 
mercial and political prosperity, its temples, its clas- 
sic drama, its impressive religious ceremonials. In- 
deed, if you get to know and love the " glory that 
was Greece," you may be inclined to anger against 
any one who would dare to criticise it. Be angry 
if you will, but Plato, who grew up in the midst of 
that glory was its remorseless critic. He made his 
criticisms in the exquisitely graceful Athenian 
fashion, but in substance they are as stern as if 
he had been Jeremiah or John Knox. The reason 
for this severe judgment, as in the case of the 
Sophists, is that he knows only one standard of 



GENERAL INTRODUCTION XXIX 

judgment, the absolute truth. The paintings, the 
songs, the stories, the dramas, are full of what is 
beautiful to the senses, but to the soul they are for 
the most part ugly and evil. When they tell of the 
gods and heroes they are full of lies. When they 
pretend to portray the virtues temperance and 
courage, they misrepresent and mislead. This in- 
fluence is for the most part corrupting, and they 
should all be banished from education and from the 
State, except such as really lead the soul toward the 
truth. 

In a like spirit Plato criticised the business and po- 
litical life of his time. The people are wasting their 
life for that which is not bread. Some want military 
glory, some want money, some want pleasure. All 
these wants lead more or less rapidly to ruin in this 
world and the next. The people need one thing — 
to be under the power of the truth. They need wise 
and righteous men, who have, by years of search, 
come to know the truth, to direct the state and the 
activities of its citizens. Only in such a state can 
there be true health and happiness for the people. 

PLATO AS DRAMATIST. 

I do not call Plato a dramatist merely because he 
wrote in dialogue. A dialogue is not always dra- 
matic. The speakers may be only masks, through 
which one hears always the author's voice. Plato 
himself often writes in this style. In such cases we 
presently see through the masks and discover that 
the dialogue is only an essay. 

There is proof of Plato's dramatic gift in the 



XXX GENERAL INTRDOUCTION 

graphic pictures of Greek life which make the set- 
ting of his dialogues. But this would have slight im- 
portance, if those pictures were found to be only a 
sort of artistic coating for his philosophical pill. 

The justification for calling Plato a dramatist be- 
comes more substantial when one finds a dialogue 
whose story illustrates the theme discussed. Take, 
for example, The Symposium. The theme is love. 
One after another of the banqueters praises love in 
a new way. At length Socrates unfolds his own 
view. Suddenly in bursts a crowd of revelers, 
drowning all discussion and scattering all serious 
thought. When the leader of the revel learns what 
the banqueters have been doing, he also will make a 
speech. But he will choose his own subject. He 
will make a speech about Socrates. The interrup- 
tion and the speech are very interesting, but what 
of that? It would be interesting if Bildad, the Shu- 
hite, should comfort Job with a fiddle. Why should 
Plato, any more than the author of Job, interrupt 
sublime discourse by a farce ? A little closer inspec- 
tion, however, shows that the interruption is not 
real, that the subject is not changed, that the de- 
bauched revelers and the story which Alcibiades 
tells of his relations with Socrates, together illus- 
trate the whole range of beastly, human, and divine 
love which it is the purpose of the dialogue to 
portray. In the Phaedo, Phsedrus, and elsewhere, 
there are other fine examples of Plato's skill in mak- 
ing the story of one spirit with the argument. 

But the full justification for calling Plato a dram- 
atist does not rest upon such occasional examples 
of his art. If this were all, we should only say that 



GENERAL INTRODUCTION XXXI 

Plato is a philosopher who sometimes shows that 
he might have been a dramatist. Plato is a drama- 
tist because of this : It is never enough for him to 
know the absolute solution of any problem. He wishes 
also to know, with the sympathetic imagination, just 
how men of every sort look at that problem. In 
most of his dialogues, not all, Plato somewhere 
seeks to work his way toward the absolute truth 
by rigid systematic thinking. There he is purely 
philosopher. There the dialogue is only form, 
and the speakers courteously make way for the 
argument. But in no dialogue is this the only thing 
done. All sorts and conditions of men are intro- 
duced — a slave boy, a confidence man, an ignorant 
braggart, a rake, a youth eager for learning, a pro- 
fessor of things-in-general, a physician, a poet, a 
business man, a philosopher — a great range of peo- 
ple, historical and fictitious, representing every 
phase of the life of his time. These people are not 
masks. Some of them feel even to us as real as 
Shakespeare's Mercutio, or Polonius, or Dogberry. 
Often they are given their way with the argument. 
Often within the same dialogue first one and then 
another type of man takes the lead and fixes the plane 
of the conversation. Now they tussle at the prob- 
lem like puppy dogs (Republic, VII., 539), Socrates 
tussling gayly with the rest. Now some one smoth- 
ers discerning inquiry with a fine oration, and per- 
haps Socrates matches this with another of the same 
sort. Now an eager youth plunges courageously 
into a discussion beyond his depth, and Socrates 
follows him with joyful applause, often without a 
hint that there are depths in the problem which the 



XXX11 GENERAL INTRODUCTION 

youth has not sounded. In many cases the dialogue 
ends with the question at issue unsettled. In such 
cases one sees that Plato's purpose in that dialogue 
is not to set forth the truth as he sees it, but to show 
men in struggle for the truth. The former were the 
achievement of a philosopher; the latter is the 
achievement of a dramatist whose drama is the whole 
spiritual journey of mankind. If I may borrow a 
figure from Pilgrim's Progress, I shall say that Plato, 
the Philosopher, had sight of the Celestial City; but 
that Plato, the Dramatist, kept also in view the long 
way back to the City of Destruction. He knew all the 
way stations upon that road, how many there are, 
how far apart, and how in one or another of them — 
in Vanity Fair, in the Valley of Humiliation, in the 
Slough of Despond, in the Arbor of the Enchanted 
Ground — men dance or curse or pray or lie in peril- 
ous sleep far from the Celestial City. 

PLATO THE LOVER. 

This title is not a new invention. In several ways 
Plato distinctly claimed it for himself. For one 
thing, he called himself philo-sophos, lover of wisdom. 
This title meant two things. It meant for one thing 
that he would not be called sopkos, wise. This was 
not mock humility. In one sense Plato was not 
humble. He was a proud man. He believed that 
he had found the way toward truth while most men 
wander blind and helpless in other ways. He be- 
lieved that he had found some essential truth which 
the world must accept or perish for lack of. When 
he had these things in mind, he spoke with the dog- 



GENERAL INTRODUCTION XXX111 

matic authority of a prophet. But just because he 
saw so far into the truth of things, he saw more 
clearly than most men ever do, that the whole truth 
is not to be compassed in this life, that none is Wise 
but God. And just because he felt so deeply the 
need of actual truth, to live by, now, he turned 
from all pretense of wisdom with instinctive hatred. 
There will be nothing new in this to any one who 
has learned Plato from his own writings. In most 
dialogues, the Platonic Socrates is more genuinely 
docile than his antagonists or disciples. On the day 
of his death, he warned those about him against 
letting their love of him add undue weight to his 
arguments, and bade them withstand him might and 
main, where he seemed astray. 1 

But the title philo-sophos meant more with Plato 
than a recognition that he was not like God, — wise. 
Above all things this title meant that he was quite 
literally a lover of wisdom, that his desire to be 
wise was a passion. In order to prepare one's self to 
appreciate Plato's passion for the Absolute Good, 
one might read some of those passages in the Bible 
which express the longing of the soul for God. The 
Psalmist says, " As the hart panteth for the water 
brooks, so longeth my soul for Thee." " My soul 
longeth, yea, even fainteth for the courts of the 
Lord ; my heart and my flesh crieth out for the living 
God." Moses declares that the first and greatest 

1 A fashionable amusement of this century is to bait philosophers. It may- 
be that philosophers as a class deserve and need this chastisement. As a 
rule, however, those who, professing to speak for common sense or for ex- 
act science, deride philosophical inquiry into the problems of life, will give 
you the solution to any such problem while standing on one leg. Such 
men make queer figures in presence of Socrates. 



XXXIV GENERAL INTRODUCTION 

commandment is " Thou shalt love the Lord thy 
God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and 
with all thy strength," and to this Christ adds, 
"and with all thy mind." The emotional tone of 
these and such passages is characteristically dif- 
ferent from that of Plato, but his language is not 
less strong. One can imagine his quoting and 
approving all these passages. 1 In the Phasdrus and 
Symposium, Plato represents love as a principle 
which ranges through many forms from animal pas- 
"sion up to the purest longing for absolute truth. In 
all its forms it is intense, a mania, an ecstasy. In its 
highest form, it is holy fire in which the earthly 
soul is consumed and the heavenly soul is reborn. 

But Plato is more than philo-sophos, lover of wis- 
dom. With the same intensity and for the same 
reason he is phil-anthropos, lover of men. Love, says 
the wise woman, Diotima, in the Symposium, is not 
love of the beautiful and good only. Love is essen- 
tially love of " birth in beauty." " Some," she goes 
on, " beget earthly children, but some are more 
creative in their souls." " He who in youth has the 
seeds of temperance and justice implanted in him 
desires to implant them in others." Above all, 
when he finds a fair and noble and well-nourished 
soul, " he is full of speech about virtue and the 
nature and pursuits of a good man, and he tries to 
educate him, and they are married by a far closer 
tie and have closer friendship than those who beget 
mortal children, for the children who are their com- 

1 As nearly as I can characterize the difference, it is this ; Plato is not 
himself so lost in the ecstatic longing which he describes as the Psalmist 
seems to be. 



GENERAL INTRODUCTION XXXV 

mon offspring are fairer and more immortal." In 
such deep fashion would Plato, the pagan, realize 
the maxim, thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself. 

PLATO THE TEACHER, 

Socrates and Plato have universal fame as teach- 
ers. Their fame is usually attributed to their de- 
velopment of the so-called Socratic method of teach- 
ing. That device requires, therefore, special consid- 
eration. 

Socrates and Plato believed that the truth is 
latent in the soul; that to waken this latent truth 
into clear consciousness is very difficult ; that the 
highest means of achieving this end is systematic 
reflection ; and that systematic reflection in its step- 
by-step approach to clear knowledge takes naturally 
the verbal form of a series of questions and answers. 
They used this device in their own most difficult in- 
vestigations, and with their most mature disciples. 
They sometimes used it with less mature disciples, 
and even with illiterate persons. (So, for example, 
in a passage from the Menp, much quoted in educa- 
tional journals, Socrates, by a series of questions, 
leads an illiterate slave boy to see for himself the 
truth of a simple geometrical proposition.) They 
used the device at times ironically, that is, for the 
purpose of revealing to an antagonist the contradic- 
tions between his different assertions. Finally, it is 
not to be denied that they sometimes used the de- 
vice in a manner which seems grossly sophistical, 
and it would be difficult to prove that in all such 
cases the sophistry is ironical. 



XXXvi GENERAL INTRODUCTION 

The Socratic method, more or less perfectly un- 
derstood, has had great influence upon professional 
Pedagogy. In many schools for the professional 
training of teachers, and in many schools in charge 
of teachers professionally trained, systematic ques- 
tioning of this sort is looked upon as ideal teaching ; 
and there is no lack of conscientious endeavor to 
prepare for use in recitation, series of questions 
which shall lead the child mind to take the logical 
steps which given occasions require. One who 
doubts the value of such systematic questioning 
may usually be converted by hearing a single typi- 
cal recitation conducted by a master of the art. 
The power of such a recitation to touch, move, 
chasten, and direct the soul is so evident, that if 
Socrates and Plato had taught us nothing but how 
to do such work their fame as teachers would be 
justified. 

If, however, systematic questioning were the 
whole Socratic art, we should be obliged to say that 
that art stands in unfavorable contrast with many 
other arts and occupations. For in most arts and oc- 
cupations, systematic procedure is not the sole or 
highest ideal. On the contrary, it is the open secret 
of successful men generally that system must bow to 
circumstance. A great business man knows that the 
method of running a railroad and the method of 
running a kerosene wagon cannot be interchanged 
with profit to either, and perhaps uses both methods 
at the same time for the benefit of the same corpo- 
ration (e.g., The Standard Oil Company). A great 
lawyer knows well the power of technicality, but 
also when to leave the little men chopping logic 






GENERAL INTRODUCTION XXXV11 

over legal trivialities, and rest his case upon a com- 
mon sense principle which the highest courts will 
declare to be the law. A great general conforms to 
the rules of military science when he is fighting 
British Regulars, and abandons those rules when he 
is fighting Indians in ambush. (Compare Washing- 
ton in the Revolution and Washington at Brad- 
dock's Defeat.) A great statesman has a task not 
unlike that of the teacher. He has to deal with hu- 
man beings. He has to lead them if he can, from 
their present position to a higher. He has to in- 
struct, persuade, convert, — achieve with the folk es- 
sentially the same things that the teacher has to 
achieve with the smaller folk. In doing this work 
he does not underestimate the educational value of 
formalities, of platforms, statutes, decisions, and ex- 
ecutive acts. He knows the power of logical argu- 
ment in print or on the stump, and indeed the oc- 
casional value of Socratic questioning as a weapon 
in debate. (See, for example, the use of formal ques- 
tions in the Lincoln-Douglass debate.) But no mas- 
ter statesman wins his place as leader, teacher, 
father of the folk, by any sort of systematic pro- 
cedure. He meets men face to face. He looks 
them through to the marrow. He is subtle as a 
lover to find the right word or the right silence. 
He wins men for his idea by Avinning them for him- 
self. As Tennyson says : " He lays his mind upon 
them, and they believe in his belief." 

In presence of such ideals and achievements among 
men of affairs, what can be said of systematic So- 
cratic questioning as the sole or highest ideal for 
teaching ? Is there nothing in a child but logical 



XXXV111 GENERAL INTRODUCTION 

apparatus ? Are all the informal ways by which 
statesmen from Moses to Lincoln have led the folk 
too informal and unscientific for little folk ? Is that 
surely the best way of " leading the child mind to 
take the necessary steps," by which you would not 
dare try to elicit the necessary steps, if you were 
applying for a position, — or a wife ? Whatever the 
modern professor of didactics may think of these 
things, it is certain that the power of Socrates him- 
self did not lie wholly in his gift for catechising. 
He did not cast a spell over the men of his genera- 
tion — business men, soldiers, politicians, philoso- 
phers, and rakes — simply by subjecting them to 
logical inquisition. If Plato affirmed this of his 
master, those who know human nature would not 
believe it. But Plato says nothing of the sort. Let 
us turn from the hand-books on didactics to Plato 
for an account of the real Socratic Art. 

In Phaedrus, 271-272, Plato says that the orator 
(and the orator in this case is essentially a teacher) 
should have three degrees of knowledge of the soul. 

1. He should know the " true nature of the soul, 
how she acts or is acted upon." If Plato's philoso- 
phy of teaching had stopped here, perhaps he would 
have supposed that his systematic questioning was 
the whole art of teaching. But he went farther. 

2. The orator or teacher should know the several 
classes of men, and " why one sort of soul is per- 
suaded by one argument, and another not." 

3. He is to become acquainted with men in actual 
life, and " be able to follow them with all his wits 
about him, or he will never get beyond the precepts 
of his masters." He must in this way at last be able, 



GENERAL INTRODUCTION XXX.1X 

when confronting an actual man, to say, " This is the 
man who needs this argument to be convinced of this 
thing." " When he has attained the knowledge of 
all this and knows when he should speak, and when 
he should abstain from speaking, when he should 
make use of pithy sayings, pathetic appeals, aggra- 
vated effects and all the other figures of speech, when 
he knows the times and seasons of all these things, 
then, and not till then, is he perfect master of the art." 
This wonderfully inclusive Psychology of Educa- 
tion, embracing at the one extreme the essential nat- 
ure of the soul and at the other the infinitely varied 
peculiarities of individuals, was not with Plato a 
mere theory. He practiced the theory even better 
than he preached it. As I have shown, in speaking 
of Plato as dramatist and as lover, there are many 
illustrations of this. Perhaps none of them is better 
than the Phasdrus, taken as a whole. Socrates finds 
Phaedrus full of a youth's enthusiasm for a piece of 
brilliant rhetoric about love. There is little true in- 
sight and no sincerity in the speech, and the prose 
is net really good. How shall the youth be sobered 
from his perilous intoxication and given taste for 
wine of better vintage ? How shall he be directed 
toward the acquisition of true artistic power and 
how shall he be led into knowledge and reverence 
-for the best thing in the world, which is love. The 
dialogue as a whole tells how Socrates actually did 
this. It takes the dialogue as a whole, its story, its 
arguments, its orations, and the criticisms upon 
them, its myths, and above all, its free and joyous 
conversation — it takes all to explain how Socrates 
went about to win a man. 



xl GENERAL INTRODUCTION 

This is the true Socratic Art. It is determined 
by the philosophic insight that art must adapt itself 
not only to the common nature of man, but also to 
the varying natures, and even to the varying moods 
of men. It is determined by dramatic insight into 
the actual ways of the souls addressed. It is deter- 
mined by a passion as deep as it is tranquil to save 
the best of the youth into the higher life. 

HOW SHALL ONE READ PLATO? 

When corn takes in stuff from the soil, the soil is 
changed into corn, but also the corn is changed by 
the soil. So when you read Plato, Plato is trans- 
lated into your way of thinking, but also your way 
of thinking is influenced by Plato. It is possible for 
either of these effects to be over-emphasized to the 
neglect of the other. The secret of right growth is 
to maintain the right balance between the old which 
one has and the new which is asking for admission. 
To find this balance is not easy, but many wise men 
say that the first thing to do with a new book, or 
anything else worth attention, is to surrender one's 
self to it as completely as possible. I believe ac- 
cordingly that I can give no better advice to one 
who meets Plato for the first time in this volume, 
than that you should let him talk to you. Imagine 
that you have wandered into the Athens of 400 B.C. 
and have come upon Socrates engaged in talk. 
Join the crowd. Keep still. Try to catch the drift. 
Do not pigeonhole Socrates the first day. Get ac- 
quainted with him as you do with a living man. 
You will find it useful without doubt to study 



GENERAL INTRODUCTION xli 

Plato's system of thought in the brief outline which 
is given, or in the fuller accounts which you may 
find in other books. But if you suppose that any 
such outline of doctrines can compass the fullness 
of Plato, you will not understand this or any philos- 
ophy in the spirit. With whatever formal devices 
you study any master-book, the essential condition 
of becoming really acquainted with it is that you 
shall live with it in joyful, informal fellowship. 



APOLOGY 



INTRODUCTION 

The defense of Socrates includes an answer to the formal 
accusations made against him in court, and an answer to 
those who for years had attacked his reputation. In both 
cases, the charge is the same in substance, — that he is the 
enemy of the traditional religion and morality of the State. 
Those who brought this charge before the court, supported 
it with false or trivial evidence and arguments. Socrates 
met these with arguments, which are, in form, nearly upon 
the same level. 

His numerous unofficial accusers, Socrates met partly by 
an explanation of the popular misunderstanding which iden- 
tified him with the natural philosophers or with the Sophists, 
but especially by a declaration of his own mission in life, 
which was not to deny God but to know and obey the will 
of God, and not to corrupt but to save men. 

In studying the defense of Socrates against his official and 
unofficial accusers, it should be seen that the conflict was not 
merely one between a wise and good man and a crowd of 
ignorant and malicious ones. The real conflict was between 
the unwritten religious, moral, and social constitution of the 
Athenian people, and a man who would put everything in 
that constitution to question with the hope of arriving at 
a better. Socrates was not many things that his accusers 
charged, — not a natural philosopher, not a Sophist, not an 
atheist, perhaps not a disbeliever in the popular mythology, 
not responsible for the sins of young Athenians whom he 

3 



4 PLATO THE TEACHER 

had labored to make men of. But the instinct of the Athe- 
nians was not substantially wrong in holding him an alien 
from their religion and morality. " 1 do believe that there 
are gods," says Socrates in closing his first speech, " and in a 
far higher sense than any of my accusers believe in them." 
Because he believed in God, the formal charges against him 
were false. But because he believed in God in a far higher 
sense than did his accusers, he and his accusers, the people 
of Athens, stood in real conflict. They stood for the religion 
and morals which they had inherited. He stood for a 
religion and morality based upon deeper insight into the 
truth. It was a conflict between a people and its prophet. 
It was a conflict in some respects like that between the ortho- 
dox Jews, who would defend their law and their separate 
nationality against destruction, and Him who came not to 
destroy but to fulfill. In such a case the question decided 
is this : Will the people rise from their own view to their 
prophet's view of the life which is proper for them ? At 
Athens, as at Jerusalem, the people chose for their tradi- 
tions. Socrates, like our Saviour, rejected of his own, be- 
came minister to all mankind. 



APOLOGY- 

How you have felt, O men of Athens, at hearing the 
speeches of my accusers, I cannot tell ; but I know that their 
persuasive words almost made me forget who I was, §+£„«, 
such was the effect of them ; and yet they have hardly 
spoken a word of truth. But many as their false- 
hoods were, there was one of them which quite amazed me : 
I mean when they told you to be upon your guard, and not 
to let yourselves be deceived by the force of my eloquence. 
They ought to have been ashamed of saying this, because they 
were sure to be detected as soon as I opened my lips and dis- 
played my deficiency ; they certainly did appear to be most 
shameless in saying this, unless by the force of eloquence they 
mean the force of truth ; for then I do indeed admit that I am 
eloquent. But in how different a way from theirs ! Well, as 
I was saying, they have hardly uttered a word, or not more 
than a word, of truth ; but you shall hear from me the whole 
truth : not, however, delivered after their manner, in a set 
oration duly ornamented with words and phrases. No, in- 
deed ! but I shall use the words and arguments which occur 
to me at the moment ; for I am certain that this is right, and 
that at my time of life I ought not to be appearing before you, 
O men of Athens, in the character of a juvenile orator : let 
no one expect this of me. And I must beg of you to grant 
me one favor, which is this, — If you hear me using the same 
words in my defense which I have been in the habit of using 
and which most of you may have heard in the agora, 2 and at 
the tables of the money-changers, 3 or anywhere else, I would 
ask you not to be surprised at this, and not to interrupt me. 

1 Defense. 

2 The market-place, corresponding to the Roman forum. Not only was 
most of the traffic carried on here, but in most Greek cities it was the gen- 
eral meeting-place for social and political purposes. 

3 The bankers did business at tables in the market-place. 



6 PLATO THE TEACHER 

For I am more than seventy years of age, and this is the first 
time that I have ever appeared in a court of law, and I am 
quite a stranger to the ways of the place ; and therefore 
'" I would have you regard me as if I were really a stran- 
ger, whom you would excuse if he spoke in his native tongue, and 
after the fashion of his country : that I think is not an unfair 
request. Never mind the manner, which may or may not be 
good ; but think only of the justice of my cause, and give heed 
to that : let the judge decide justly and the speaker speak truly. 
And first, I have to reply to the older charges and to my 
first accusers, and then I will go on to the later ones. For I 
have had many accusers, who accused me of old, and their 
false charges have continued during many years ; and I am 
more afraid of them than of Anytus 4 and his associates, who 
are dangerous, too, in their own way. But far more danger- 
ous are these, who began when you were children, and took 
possession of your minds with their falsehoods, telling of one 
Socrates, a wise man, who speculated about the heaven above, 
and searched into the earth beneath, and made the worse 
appear the better cause. These are the accusers whom I 
dread ; for they are the circulators of this rumor, and their 
hearers are too apt to fancy that speculators of this sort do not 
believe in the gods. And they are many, and their charges 
against me are of ancient date, and they made them in days 
when you were impressible, — in childhood, or perhaps in 
youth, — and the cause when heard went by default, for there 
was none to answer. And hardest of all, their names I do not 
know and cannot tell; unless in the chance case of a comic 
poet. 5 But the main body of these slanderers who from envy 

4 Anytus (an'y-tus) : a wealthy Athenian, high in popular favor, the most 
formidable of the accusers of Socrates. He was a bitter antagonist of the 
Sophists and hated Socrates especially for having influenced his son to study 
philosophy. He is said to have gone into exile after the death of Socrates 
to escape the vengeance of the fickle people. In the dialogue Meno, Any- 
tus, incensed at something Socrates has said, threatens him thus : '■ I think 
that you are too ready to speak evil of men ; and, if you take my advice I 
would recommend you to be careful. Perhaps there is no city in which it is 
not easier to do men harm than to do them good, and this is certainly the 
case at Athens, as I believe that you know." 

5 Aristophanes (ar-is-tofa-nez) , 444-388 B.C., greatest of the Greek comic 
poets, wrote a comedy called The Clouds, in which he ridiculed Socrates, 
representing him as a visionary thinker and as one who would break down 
the ancient standards of morality. This comedy, which appeared about 
twenty-four years before the trial of Socrates, tended to make the general 
public regard Socrates as a Sophist. 



APOLOGY 7 

and malice have wrought upon you, — and there are some of 
them who are convinced themselves, and impart their convic- 
tions to others, — all these, I say, are most difficult to deal 
with; for I cannot have them up here, and examine them, 
and therefore I must simply fight with shadows in my own de- 
fense, and examine when there is no one who answers. I will 
ask you then to assume with me, as I was saying, that my op- 
ponents are of two kinds, — one recent, the other ancient ; and 
I hope that you will see the propriety of my answering the 
latter first, for these accusations you heard long before the 
others, and much often er. 

Well, then, I will make my defense, and I will endeavor in 
the short time which is allowed to do away with this evil opinion 
of me which you have held for such a long time ; and 
I hope that I may succeed, if this be well for you and 
me, and that my words may find favor with you. But I know 
that to accomplish this is not easy — I quite see the nature of 
the task. Let the event be as God wills : in obedience to the 
law I make my defense. 

I will begin at the beginning, and ask what the accusation 
is which has given rise to this slander of me, and which has 
encouraged Meletus 6 to proceed against me. What do the 
slanderers say ? They shall be my prosecutors, and I will sum 
up their words in an affidavit : " Socrates is an evil-doer, and 
a curious person, who searches into things under the earth and 
in heaven, and he makes the worse appear the better cause ; 
and he teaches the aforesaid doctrines to others. ' ' That is the 
nature of the accusation, and that is what you have seen your- 
selves in the comedy of Aristophanes, who has introduced a 
man whom he calls Socrates, going about and saying that he 
can walk in the air, and talking a deal of nonsense concerning 
matters of which I do not pretend to know either much or 
little— not that I mean to say anything disparaging of any 
one who is a student of natural philosophy. I should be very 
sorry if Meletus could lay that to my charge. But the simple 
truth is, O Athenians, that I have nothing to do with these 
studies. Very many of those here present are witnesses to the 

6 Meletus (me-le'tus) : an obscure young tragic poet, who made the formal 
accusation against Socrates. He was the least important of the three ac- 
cusers and is said to have been stoned to death by the people in their revul- 
sion of feeling after the death of Socrates. 



8 PLATO THE TEACHER 

truth of this, and to them I appeal. Speak then, you who 
have heard me, and tell your neighbors whether any of you 
have ever known me hold forth in few words or in many upon 
matters of this sort. . . . You hear their answer. 
And from what they say of this you will be able to judge of 
the truth of the rest. 

As little foundation is there for the report that I am a 
teaches, and take money ; that is no more true than the other. 
Although, if a man is able to teach, I honor him for being 
paid. There is Gorgias of Leontium, and Prodicus of Ceos, 
and Hippias of Elis, 7 who go the round of the cities, and are 
able to persuade the young men to leave their own citizens, 
by whom they might be taught for nothing, and come to 
them whom they not only pay, but are thankful if they 
may be allowed to pay them. There is actually a Parian 
philosopher 8 residing in Athens, of whom I have heard ; and 
I came to hear of him in this way : I met a man who has 
spent a world of money on the Sophists, Callias 9 the son of 
Hipponicus, and knowing that he had sons, I asked him : 
" Callias/' I said, "if your two sons were foals or calves, 
there would be no difficulty in finding some one to put over 
them ; we should hire a trainer of horses, or a farmer prob- 
ably, who would improve and perfect them in their own 
proper virtue and excellence ; but as they are human beings, 
whom are you thinking of placing over them ? Is there any 
one who understands human and political virtue ? You must 
have thought about this as you have sons ; is there any one? " 
" There is," he said. " Who is he ? " said I, " and of what 
country ? and what does he charge ? " " Evenus the Parian, ' ' 
he replied ; " he is the man, and his charge is five minae." 10 
Happy is Evenus, I said to myself, if he really has this wis- 



7 Of these three Sophists, the most famous was Gorgias (gor'jf-as), a native 
of Leontini in Sicily. One of Plato's dialogues bears his name. He was a 
great rhetorician and the founder of a school of oratory. He was very popu- 
lar and received large fees. Prodicus (prod'f-kus). Hippias (hip'pi-as). See 
Protagoras, note I. 

8 Evenus (e-ve'nus) of Paros (pa'ros, an island in the JEgean): mentioned 
in the Phaedo as a poet, and in the Phaedrus as the inventor of certain rhe- 
torical devices. 

9 Callias (kal'li-as) : an Athenian of noble and wealthy family, and a great 
admirer of the Sophists. His house is the scene of Plato's Protagoras. 

10 Mina (mi'na) ; pi. Minae (ml'ne) or Minas : a sum of money varying in 
value ; in Athens, about $16 or $18. 



APOLOGY 9 

dom, and teaches at such a modest charge. 11 Had I the 
same, I should have been very proud and conceited ; but the 
truth is that I have no knowledge of the kind, O Athenians. 

I dare say that some one will ask the question, " Why is 
this, Socrates, and what is the origin of these accusations of 
you: for there must have been something strange which you 
have been doing ? All this great fame and talk about you 
would never have arisen if you had been like other men : tell 
us, then, why this is, as we should be sorry to judge hastily of 
you." Now I regard this as a fair challenge, and I will en- 
deavor to explain to you the origin of this name of " wise," 
and of this evil fame. Please to attend, then. And al- 
though some of you may think that I am joking, I declare that 
I will tell you the entire truth. Men of Athens, this reputa- 
tion of mine has come of a certain sort of wisdom which I 
possess. If you ask me what kind of wisdom, I reply, such 
wisdom as is attainable by man, for to that extent I am in- 
clined to believe that I am wise; whereas the persons of whom 
I was speaking have a superhuman wisdom, which I may fail 
to describe, because I have it not myself; and he who says that 
I have, speaks falsely, and is taking away my character. And 
here, O men of Athens, I must beg you not to interrupt me, 
even if I seem to say something extravagant. For the word 
which I will speak is not mine. I will refer you to a witness 
who is worthy of credit, and will tell you about my wisdom 
— whether I have any, and of what sort — and that witness 
shall be the God of Delphi. 12 You must have known Chsere- 
phon ; 13 he was early a friend of mine, and also a friend 
of yours, for he shared in the exile of the people, 14 and 
returned with you. Well, Chserephon, as you know, was 
very impetuous in all his doings, and he went to Delphi and 

11 The Sophists Gorgias and Protagoras are said to have received as much 
as one hundred minae. 

12 Delphi (del'fi), a small city in central Greece, was the seat of one of 
the most famous oracles. Here Apollo, one of the greatest and most benef- 
icent of the Greek gods, was supposed to inspire his prophetess and through 
her reveal his will to those who came to consult him. This priestess of 
Apollo was sometimes called the Pythian prophetess because the ancient 
name of Delphi was Pytho (py'tho). 

13 Chaarephon (ker'e-fon) : an enthusiastic admirer of Socrates. 

14 The Peloponnesian War (431-404 B.c), was a conflict between Athens 
and Sparta in which Athens was defeated. Sparta placed Athens under the 
control of a Council of Thirty. Under these tyrants Athens suffered many 
cruelties, one of them being the exile of many of her citizens. 



10 PLATO THE TEACHER 

boldly asked the oracle to tell him whether — as I was saying, 
I must beg you not to interrupt — he asked the oracle to tell 
him whether there was any one wiser than I was, and the 
Pythian prophetess answered, that there was no man wiser. 
Chaerephon is dead himself, but his brother, who is in court, 
will confirm the truth of this story. 

Why do I mention this ? Because I am going to explain 
to you why I have such an evil name. When I heard the an- 
swer, I said to myself, What can the god mean ? and what is 
the interpretation of this riddle? for I know that I have no 
wisdom, small or great. What can he mean when he says 
that I am the wisest of men ? And yet he is a god and can- 
not lie ; that would be against his nature. After a long con- 
sideration, I at last thought of a method of trying the ques- 
tion. I reflected that if I could only find a man wiser than 
myself, then I might go to the god with a refutation in my 
hand. I should say to him, " Here is a man who is wiser 
than I am; but you said that I was the wisest." Accord- 
ingly I went to one who had the reputation of wisdom, 
and observed him — his name I need not mention ; he was a 
politician whom I selected for examination — and the result 
was as follows : When I began to talk with him, I could not 
help thinking that he was not really wise, although he was 
thought wise by many, and wiser still by himself \ and I went 
and tried to explain to him that he thought himself wise, but 
was not really wise ; and the consequence was that he hated 
me, and his enmity was shared by several who were present 
and heard me. So I left him, saying to myself, as I went 
away : Well, although I do not suppose that either of us 
knows anything really beautiful and good, I am better off 
than he is, — for he knows nothing, and thinks that he knows. 
I neither know nor think that I know. In this latter particu- 
lar, then, I seem to have slightly the advantage of him. 
Then I went to another who had still higher philosophical 
pretensions, and my conclusion was exactly the same. I 
made another enemy of him, and of many others beside him. 

After this I went to one man after another, being not un- 
conscious of the enmity which I provoked, and I lamented 
and feared this : but necessity was laid upon me, — the word 
of God, I thought, ought to be considered first. And I said 
to myself, Go I must to all who appear to know, and find out 



APOLOGY 1 1 

the meaning of the oracle. And I swear to you, Athenians, 
by the dog 15 I swear ! — for I must tell you the truth — the re- 
sult of my mission was just this : I found that the men most 
in repute were all but the most foolish ; and that some infe- 
rior men were really wiser and better. I will tell you 
the tale of my wanderings and of the lt Herculean " 
labors, as I may call them, which I endured only to find at 
last the oracle irrefutable. When I left the politicians, I went 
to the poets ; tragic, dithyrambic, 16 and all sorts. And there, 
I said to myself, you will be detected ; now you will find out 
that you are more ignorant than they are. Accordingly, I 
took them some of the most elaborate passages in their own 
writings, and asked what was the meaning of them — think- 
ing that they would teach me something. Will you believe 
me? I am almost ashamed to speak of this, but still I must 
say that there is hardly a person present who would not have 
talked better about their poetry than they did themselves. 
That showed me in an instant that not by wisdom do poets 
write poetry, but by a sort of genius and inspiration 17 ; they 
are like diviners or soothsayers who also say many fine things, 
but do not understand the meaning of them. And the poets 
appeared to me to be much in the same case ; and I further 
observed that upon the strength of their poetry they believed 
themselves to be the wisest of men in other things in which 
they were not wise. So I departed, conceiving myself to be 
superior to them for the same reason that I was superior to 
the politicians. 

At last I went to the artisans, for I was conscious that I 
knew nothing at all, as I may say, and I was sure that they 
knew many fine things ; and in this I was not mistaken, for 
they did know many things of which I was ignorant, and in 
this they certainly were wiser than I was. But I observed 
that even the good artisans fell into the same error as the 
poets; because they were good workmen they thought that 
they also knew all sorts of high matters, and this defect in 
them overshadowed their wisdom — therefore I asked myself 
on behalf of the oracle, whether I would like to be as I was, 
neither having their knowledge nor their ignorance, or like 

15 An oath, of uncertain, possibly Egyptian origin, often used by Socrates. 

16 The dithyramb was a kind of lyric poem. 

17 Compare Phaedrus, 245. 



12 PLATO THE TEACHER 

them in both ; and I made answer to myself and the oracle 
that I was better off as I was. 

This investigation has led to my having many enemies of 
the worst and most dangerous kind, and has given occasion 
also to many calumnies. And I am called wise, for my 
hearers always imagine that I myself possess the wisdom 
which I find wanting in others : but the truth is, O men of 
Athens, that God only is wise ; and in this oracle he means 
to say that the wisdom of men is little or nothing ; he is not 
speaking of Socrates, he is only using my name as an illustra- 
tion, as if he said, He, O men, is the wisest, who, like Soc- 
rates, knows that his wisdom is in truth worth nothing. And 
so I go my way, obedient to the god, and make inquisition 
into the wisdom of any one, whether citizen or stranger, who 
appears to be wise ; and if he is not wise, then in vindication 
of the oracle I show him that he is not wise ; and this occupa- 
tion quite absorbs me, and I have no time to give either to 
any public matter of interest or to any concern of my own, 
but I am in utter poverty 18 by reason of my devotion to the 
god. 

There is another thing : — young men of the richer classes, 
who have not much to do, come about me of their own accord ; 
they like to hear the pretenders examined, and they often imi- 
tate me, and examine others themselves ; 19 there are plenty of 
persons, as they soon enough discover, who think that they 
know something, but really know little or nothing : and then 
those who are examined by them instead of being angry with 
themselves are angry with me : This confounded Socrates, they 
say ; this villainous misleader of youth ! — and then if some- 
body asks them, Why, what evil does he practise or teach ? 
they do not know, and cannot tell ; but in order that they 
may not appear to be at a loss, they repeat the ready-made 
charges which are used against all philosophers about teaching 
things up in the clouds and under the earth, and having no 
gods, and making the worse appear the better cause ; for they 
do not like to confess that their pretense of knowledge has 
been detected — which is the truth : and as they are numerous 
and ambitious and energetic, and are all in battle array and 
have persuasive tongues, they have filled your ears with their 

18 Socrates was notoriously neglectful of his own private interests. 

19 Compare Republic VII., 539: " They must not be allowed to taste," etc. 



APOLOGY 13 

loud and inveterate calumnies. And this is the reason why 
my three accusers, Meletus and Anytus and Lycon, 20 have set 
upon me : Meletus, who has a quarrel with me on behalf of 
the poets ; Anytus, on behalf of the craftsmen ; Lycon, on 
behalf of the rhetoricians : and as I said at the beginning, I 
cannot expect to get rid of this mass of calumny all in a 
moment. And this, O men of Athens, is the truth and ^JT 
the whole truth ; I have concealed nothing, I have dis- 
sembled nothing. And yet, I know that this plainness of 
speech makes them hate me, and what is their hatred but a 
proof that I am speaking the truth ? — this is the occasion and 
reason of their slander of me, as you will find out either in 
this or in any future inquiry. 

I have said enough in my defense against the first class of 
my accusers ; I turn to the second class who are headed by 
Meletus, that good and patriotic man, as he calls himself. 
And now I will try to defend myself against them : these new 
accusers must also have their affidavit read. What do they 
say ? Something of this sort : That Socrates is a doer of evil, 
and corrupter of the youth, and he does not believe in the 
gods of the State, and has other new divinities of his own. 
That is the sort of charge ; and now let us examine the 
particular counts. He says that I am a doer of evil, who 
corrupt the youth ; but I say, O men of Athens, that Meletus 
is a doer of evil, and the evil is that he makes a joke of a 
serious matter, and is too ready at bringing other men to trial 
from a pretended zeal and interest about matters in which he 
really never had the smallest interest. And the truth of this 
I will endeavor to prove. 

[By questioning Meletus, Socrates brings out the fact that 
Meletus himself is careless about the improvement of the 
youth. In answer to the charge that he corrupts the youth, 
Socrates shows how inconceivable it is that a man should 
intentionally injure citizens among whom he has to live and 
from whom he must expect evil in return as Meletus admits. 
The declaration of Meletus that Socrates is an atheist is 
shown to contradict the charge that he is introducing new 
gods.] 

20 Lycon (lylcon) : a rhetorician and orator, said to have been banished 
for his part in the prosecution of Socrates. 



14 PLATO THE TEACHER 

I have said enough in answer to the charge of Meletus : any 
elaborate defense is unnecessary ; but as I was saying before, 
o I certainly have many enemies, and this is what will be my 
destruction if I am destroyed ; of that I am certain ; not 
Meletus, nor yet Anytus, but the envy and detraction of the 
world, which has been the death of many good men, and will 
probably be the death of many more ; there is no danger of 
my being the last of them. 

Some one will say : And are you not ashamed, Socrates, of 
a course of life which is likely to bring you to an untimely 
end? To him I may fairly answer: There you are mistaken: 
a man who is good for anything ought not to calculate the 
chance of living or dying ; he ought only to consider whether 
in doing anything he is doing right or wrong — acting the part 
of a good man or of a bad. Whereas, according to your view, 
the heroes who fell at Troy 21 were not good for much, and the 
son of Thetis above all, who altogether despised danger in 
comparison with disgrace ; and when his goddess mother said 
to him, in his eagerness to slay Hector, that if he avenged his 
companion Patroclus, and slew Hector, he would die himself, 
— " Fate," as she said, " waits upon you next after Hector;" 
he, hearing this, utterly despised danger and death, and in- 
stead of fearing them, feared rather to live in dishonor, and not 
to avenge his friend. "Let me die next," he replies, "and 
be avenged of my enemy, rather than abide here by the beaked 
ships, a scorn and a burden of the earth." Had Achilles 
any thought of death and danger? For wherever a man's 
place is, whether the place which he has chosen or that in 
which he has been placed by a commander, there he ought to 
remain in the hour of danger ; he should not think of death 
or of anything, but of disgrace. And this, O men of Athens, 
is a true saying. 

Strange, indeed, would be my conduct, O men of Athens, 
if I who, when I was ordered by the generals whom you chose 

21 According to legend, Helen, the beautiful wife of KingMenelaus (raen'- 
e-la'us) of Sparta, was carried off to Troy during her husband's absence, by 
Paris, son of King Priam of Troy. Under the leadership of Agamemnon 
(ag'a-mem'non) brother of Menelaus, the Greeks went to Troy and besieged 
the city for ten years before it was finally taken and Helen recovered. This 
war is the subject of Homer's Iliad. Achilles (a-kfl'lez), son of the sea- 
nymph Thetis (the'tis), was the bravest of the Greek heroes. His friend 
Patroclus (pat-ro'klus) fell by the spear of the Trojan warrior Hector. To 
avenge this death, Achilles engaged in combat with Hector and slew him. 



APOLOGY 1 5 

to command me at Potidaea and Amphipolis and Delium, 22 
remained where they placed me, like any other man, facing 
death, — if, I say, now, when, as I conceive and imagine, God 
orders me to fulfill the philosopher's mission of searching into 
myself and other men, I were to desert my post through 
fear of death, or any other fear ; that would indeed be 
strange, and I might justly be arraigned in court for denying 
the existence of the gods, if I disobeyed the oracle because I 
was afraid of death : then I should be fancying that I was 
wise when I was not wise. For this fear of deat his indeed 
the pretense of wisdom, and not real wisdom, being the 
appearance of knowing the unknown ; since no one knows 
whether death, which they in their fear apprehend to be the 
greatest evil, may not be the greatest good. Is there not here 
conceit of knowledge, which is a disgraceful sort of ignorance ? 
And this is the point in which, as I think, I am superior to 
men in general, and in which I might perhaps fancy myself 
wiser than other men, — that whereas I know but little of the 
world below, 23 I do not suppose that I know : but I do know 
that injustice and disobedience to a better, whether God or 
man, is evil and dishonorable, and I will never fear or avoid a 
possible good rather than a certain evil. And therefore if you 

22 In the hostilities preceding and during the Peloponnesian War (see note 
14), Socrates served as foot soldier in battles at Potidaea (pot'i-de'a) in Mace- 
donia in 432 B.C.; at Delium (de'li-um) in Boeotia (be-6'shi-a) in 424 B.C.; at 
Amphipolis (am-fip'o-lis) in Macedonia, in 422 B. C. 

23 The Greeks believed that the world of the dead was in the depths of the 
earth. In the most ancient usage, Hades meant simply the world of the 
dead, inhabited by incorporeal images having the form of the earthly body 
and following the occupations of the earthly life, but, except by special favor 
of the gods, without consciousness. Later, Hades was made to include a 
place for the blessed (Elysium, or the Islands of the Blest), and a place for 
the damned, Tartarus (tar'ta-rus), the inhabitants of both being of course con- 
scious of their states. The Hebrew word Sheol (she'ol) made familiar by 
its use in the revised version of the English Bible, passed through a some- 
what similar change of meaning and in the Septuagint, the ancie nt Greek 
translation of the Old Testament, is usually translated by the Greek word 
Hades. When the authorized version of the English Bible was made in 
1611, the word hell still sometimes retained the meaning, the place of the 
dead, although it had also the meaning, the place of the damned. The word 
hell was therefore, as a rule, properly used to translate Sheol and Hades. 
Now that our word hell has lost its general meaning, the place of the dead, 
it is no longer equivalent to Sheol and Hades ; and since we have now no 
English word for the place of the dead, the revised version of the English 
Bible simply transfers Sheol (nearly always) and Hades (always) into Eng- 
lish spelling. This explanation of a word much used by Plato is made 
necessary because of the popular misconception that Hades is a mild term 
for the place of eternal torment. 



l6 PLATO THE TEACHER 

let me go now, and reject the counsels of Anytus, who said 
that if I were not put to death I ought not to have been prose- 
cuted, and that if I escape now, your sons will all be utterly 
ruined by listening to my words, — if you say to me, Socrates, 
this time we will not mind Anytus, and will let you off, but 
upon one condition, that you are not to inquire and speculate 
in this way any more, and that if you are caught doing this 
again you shall die, — if this was the condition on which you 
let me go, I should reply : Men of Athens, I honor and love 
you ; but I shall obey God rather than you, 24 and while I have 
life and strength I shall never cease from the practice and 
teaching of philosophy, exhorting any one whom I meet after 
my manner, and convincing him, saying : O my friend, why 
do you, who are a citizen of the great and mighty and wise 
city of Athens, care so much about laying up the greatest 
amount of money and honor and reputation, and so little 
about wisdom and truth and the greatest improvement of the 
soul, 25 which you never regard or heed at all ? Are you not 
ashamed of this ? And if the person with whom I am argu- 
ing, says, Yes, but I do care : I do not depart or let him go at 
once ; I interrogate and examine and cross-examine him, and 
if I think that he has no virtue, but only says that he has, I 
reproach him with undervaluing the greater, and overvaluing 
the less. And this I should say to every one whom I 
meet, young and old, citizen and alien, but especially 
to the citizens, inasmuch as they are my brethren. For this 
is the command to God, as I would have you know ; and I 
believe that to this day no greater good has ever happened in 
the State than my service to the God. For I do nothing but 
go about persuading you all, old and young alike, not to take 
thought for your persons or your properties, but first and 
chiefly to care about the greatest improvement of the soul. I 
tell you that virtue is not given by money, but that from virt- 
ue come money and every other good of man, public as well 
as private. 26 This is my teaching, and if this is the doctrine 
which corrupts the youth, my influence is ruinous indeed. 
But if any one says that this is not my teaching, he is speak- 

24 "We ought to obey God rather than men.'' — Acts v. 29. 

95 " For a man's life consisteth not in the abundance of the things which 
he possesseth." — Luke xii. 15. 

26 " But rather seek ye the kingdom of God ; and all these things shall be 
added unto you." — Luke xii. 31. 



APOLOGY 17 

ing an untruth. Wherefore, O men of Athens, I say to you, 
do as Anytus bids or not as Anytus bids, and either acquit me 
or not ; but whatever you do, know that I shall never alter 
my ways, not even if I have to die many times. 

Men of Athens, do not interrupt, but hear me ; there was 
an agreement between us that you should hear me out. And 
I think that what I am going to say will do you good : for I 
have something more to say, at which you may be inclined to 
cry out ; but I beg that you will not do this. I would have 
you know, that if you kill such a one as I am, you will 
injure yourselves more than you will injure me. Meletus and 
Anytus will not injure me : they cannot ; for it is not in the 
nature of things that a bad man should injure a better than 
himself. I do not deny that he may, perhaps, kill him, or 
drive him into exile, or deprive him of civil rights ; and he 
may imagine, and others may imagine, that he is doing him a 
great injury : but in that I do not agree with him ; for the evil 
of doing as Anytus is doing — of unjustly taking away another 
man's life — is greater far. And now, Athenians, I am not 
going to argue for my own sake, as you may think, but for 
yours, that you may not sin against the God, or lightly reject 
his boon by condemning me. For if you kill me you will not 
easily find another like me, who, if I may use such a ludicrous 
figure of speech, am a sort of gadfly, given to the State by the 
God ; and the State is like a great and noble steed who is tardy 
in his motions owing to his very size, and requires to bestirred 
into life. I am that gadfly which God has given the State, and 
all day long and in all places am always fastening upon 
you, arousing and persuading and reproaching you. And 
as you will not easily find another like me, I would advise you 
to spare me. I dare say that you may feel irritated at being 
suddenly awakened when you are caught napping ; and you may 
think that if you were to strike me dead as Anytus advises, 
which you easily might, then you would sleep on for the 
remainder of your lives, unless God in his care of you gives you 
another gadfly. And that I am given to you by God is proved 
by this : that if I had been like other men, I should not have 
neglected all my own concerns, or patiently seen the neglect of 
them during all these years, and have been doing yours, coming 
to you individually, like a father or elder brother, exhorting 
you to regard virtue ; this, I say, would not be like human 



18 PLATO THE TEACHER 

nature. And had I gained anything, or if my exhortations 
had been paid, there would have been some sense in that : but 
now, as you will perceive, not even the impudence of my accus- 
ers dares to say that I have ever exacted or sought pay of any 
one ; they have no witness of that. And I have a witness of 
the truth of what I say ; my poverty is a sufficient witness. 

Some one may wonder why I go about in private, giving 
advice and busying myself with the concerns of others, but do 
not venture to come forward in public and advise the State. I 
will tell you the reason of this. You have often heard me 
speak of an oracle or sign 27 which comes to me, and is the divin- 
ity which Meletus ridicules in the indictment. This sign I have 
had ever since I was a child. The sign is a voice which comes 
to me and always forbids me to do something which I am going 
to do, but never commands me to do anything, and this is what 
stands in the way of my being a politician. And rightly, as I 
think. For I am certain, O men of Athens, that if I had en- 
gaged in politics, I should have perished long ago, and done no 
good either to you or to myself. And don't be offended at my 
telling you the truth : for the truth is, that no man who goes to 
war with you or any other multitude, honestly struggling against 
the commission of unrighteousness and wrong in the State, will 
save his life ; he who will really fight for the right, if he 
would live even for a little while, must have a private sta- 
tion and not a public one. 28 

I can give you as proofs of this, not words only, but deeds, 
which you value more than words. Let me tell you a passage 
of my own life, which will prove to you that I should never 
have yielded to injustice from any fear of death, and that if I 
had not yielded I should have died at once. I will tell you a 
story — tasteless, perhaps, and commonplace, but nevertheless 
true. The only office of state which I ever held, O men of 
Athens, was that of senator 29 ; the tribe Antiochis, which is my 

27 Socrates frequently speaks of this sign or voice. He seems to have re- 
garded it not as a personal divinity, but as a divine influence. 

28 Compare Rep. VI., 496. 

29 At the time of Socrates, Attica, the Athenian State, was divided into ten 
tribes. The senate consisted of five hundred members, chosen by lot, fifty 
from each tribe. " Its sittings became constant, with the exception of special 
holidays. The year was distributed into ten portions called Prytanies — the 
fifty senators of each tribe taking by turns the duty of constant attendance 
during one prytany, and receiving during that time the title of The Prytanes 
(pryt'a-nez). ... A further subdivision of the prytany into five periods 
of seven days each, and of the fifty tribe senators into five bodies of ten 



APOLOGY 19 

tribe, had the presidency at the trial of the generals who had not 
taken up the bodies of the slain after the battle of Arginusse ; m 
and you proposed to try them all together, which was illegal, as 
you all thought afterwards j but at the time I was the only one 
of the prytanes who was opposed to the illegality, and I gave 
my vote against you ; and when the orators threatened to im- 
peach and arrest me, and have me taken away, and you called 
and shouted, I made up my mind that I would run the risk, 
having law and justice with me, rather than take part in your 
injustice because I feared imprisonment and death. This 
happened in the days of the democracy. But when the oli- 
garchy of the Thirty 31 was in power, they sent for me and four 
others into the rotunda, 32 and bade us bring Leon the Salamin- 
ian from Salamis, 33 as they wanted to execute him. This was 
a specimen of the sort of commands which they were al- 
ways giving with the view of implicating as many as possible 
in their crimes ; and then I showed, not in word only but in 
deed, that, if I may be allowed to use such an expression, I 
cared not a straw for death, and that my only fear was the fear 
of doing an unrighteous or unholy thing. For the strong arm 
of that oppressive power did not frighten me into doing wrong; 

each , was recognized. Each body of ten presided in the senate for one period 
of seven days, drawing lots every day among their number for a new chair- 
man. " — Grote's History of Greece, chap. xxxi. 

Part of the business of the senate was to prepare resolutions to be laid be- 
fore the general assembly of all the citizens, which, in cases like the one re- 
ferred to by Socrates, had, with the senate, the power of final decision. 

30 Arginusas (ar'ji-nu'se) : a naval battle of the Poloponnesian War, occur- 
ring in 406 B.C. Although victorious, the Athenian generals left their dead 
unburied and abandoned the living on the wrecked vessels. This neglect 
and cruelty aroused great indignation at Athens. The generals were illegally 
tried, condemned and executed. 

" So intimidated were the Prytanes by the incensed manifestations of the 
assembly that all of them, except one, relinquished their opposition and 
agreed to put the question " [as to the guilt and condemnation of the generals 
in a body]. The single obstinate Prytanis, whose refusal no menace could 
subdue, was a man whose name we read with peculiar interest, and in whom 
an impregnable adherence to law and duty was only one among many other 
titles to reverence. It was the philosopher Socrates ; on this trying occasion, 
once throughout a life of seventy years, discharging a political office, among 
the fifty senators taken by lot from the tribe Antiochus. Socrates could not 
be induced to withdraw his protest, so that the question was ultimately put 
by the remaining Prytanes without his concurrence." — Grote's History of 
Greece III., chap. lxiv. 

31 See Apology, note 14. 

32 The office of the Prytanes at the Prytaneum (pryt'a-ne'um) where they 
also dined at public cost. See Apology, note 43. 

33 Salamis (sal'a-mis) : an island of the ^gean, near Athens. 



20 PLATO THE TEACHER 

and when we came out of the rotunda the other four went to 
Salamis and fetched Leon, but I went quietly home. For 
which I might have lost my life, had not the power of the 
Thirty shortly afterwards come to an end. And to this many 
will witness. 

Now do you really imagine that I could have survived all 
these years, if I had led a public life, supposing that like a good 
man I had always supported the right and had made justice, as 
I ought, the first thing ? No indeed, men of Athens, neither I 
nor any other. But I have been always the same in all 
3 my actions, public as well as private, and never have I 
yielded any base compliance to those who are slanderously 
termed my disciples, 34 or to any other. For the truth is that I 
have no regular disciples : but if any one likes to come and 
hear me while I am pursuing my mission, whether he be young 
or old, he may freely come. Nor do I converse with those who 
pay only, and not with those who do not pay ; but any one, 
whether he be rich or poor, may ask and answer me and listen 
to my words ; and whether he turns out to be a bad man or a 
good one, that cannot be justly laid to my charge, as I never 
taught him anything. And if any one says that he has ever 
learned or heard anything from me in private which all the 
world has not heard, I should like you to know that he is 
speaking an untruth. 

But I shall be asked, Why do people delight in continually 
conversing with you? I have told you already, Athenians, the 
whole truth about this : they like to hear the cross-examination 
of the pretenders to wisdom ; there is amusement in this. And 
this is a duty which the God has imposed upon me, as I am 
assured by oracles, visions, and in every sort of way in which 
the will of divine power was ever signified to any one. This is 
true, O Athenians ; or, if not true, would be soon refuted. 
For if I am really corrupting the youth, and have corrupted 
some of them already, those of them who have grown up and 
have become sensible that I gave them bad advice in the days 
of their youth should come forward as accusers and take their 
revenge ; and if they do not like to come themselves, some of 

84 Probably an allusion to Critias, the most unscrupulous and most hated 
of the Thirty Tyrants, and Alcibiades, a corrupt general and politician, both 
of whom had in youth associated with Socrates, and for whose evil doing he 
was sometimes held responsible. See Protagoras, note I ; Symposium, 212 
and following. 



APOLOGY 21 

their relatives, fathers, brothers, or other kinsmen, should say 
what evil their families suffered at my hands. Now is their 
time. Many of them 1 see in the court. There is Crito, 35 who 
is of the same age and of the same deme 36 with myself; and 
there is Critobulus 37 his son, whom I also see. Then again 
there is Lysanias of Sphettus, who is the father of ^schines, — 
he is present ; and also there is Antiphon of Cephisus, who is 
the father of Epigenes ; and there are the brothers of several 
who have associated with me. There is Nicostratus the son of 
Theosdotides, and the brother of Theodotus (now Theodotus 
himself is dead, and therefore he, at any rate, will not seek to 
stop him) ; and there is Paralus the son of Demodocus, who 
had a brother Theages, and Adeimantus the son of Aris- 
ton, whose brother Plato is present ; and ^Eantodorus, 3 ^ 
who is the brother of Apollodorus, whom I also see. I might 
mention a great many others, any of whom Meletus should have 
produced as witnesses in the course of his speech ; and let him 
still produce them, if he has forgotten ; I will make way for 
him. And let him say, if he has any testimony of the sort 
which he can produce. Nay, Athenians, the very opposite is 
the truth. For all these are ready to witness on behalf of the 
corrupter, of the destroyer of their kindred, as Meletus and 
Anytus call me ; not the corrupted youth only, — there might 
have been a motive for that, — but their uncorrupted elder rel- 
atives. Why should they too support me with their testimony ? 
Why, indeed, except for the sake of truth and justice, and be- 
cause they know that I am speaking the truth, and that Meletus 
is lying. 

Well, Athenians, this and the like of this is nearly all the 
defense which I have to offer. Yet a word more. Perhaps 

33 Crito (kri'tS) : a wealthy Athenian, the devoted friend and disciple of 
Socrates. He is said to have relieved Socrates from the necessity of manual 
labor. He offered Socrates means of escape from prison. He appears in 
the Phasdo. A dialogue of Plato bears his name. 

36 Each of the ten tribes of Attica comprised a certain number of denies 
(demz) or administrative districts, something like our townships. They were 
named after persons or places. 

37 Critobulus (krit' o-bulus) ; Lysanias (ly-sa'nT-as) ; Sphettus (sfet'tfis) ; 
iEschines (es'ki-nez) ; Antiphon (an'ti-fon) ; Cephisus (se-fi'sus) ; Epigenes 
(e-pij'e-nez) ; Nicostratus (ni-cos'tra-tus) ; Theosdotides (the-os'do-ti'dez) ; 
Theodotus (the-od'o-tus) ; Paralus (par'a-lus) ; Demodocus (de-mod'o-cus) ; 
Theages (the-a'jez) ; Adeimantus (ad'i-man'tus) ; Ariston (a-rfs'ton) ; ^anto- 
dorus (e-an't5-d6'rus) ; Apollodorus (a-pol'lS-do'rus). Of these men Adenines 
and Epigenes were present at the death of Socrates ; See Phaedo, 59. Adei- 
mantus appears in the Republic. 



22 PLATO THE TEACHER 

there may be some one who is offended at me, when he calls to 
mind how he himself on a similar, or even a less serious occa- 
sion, had recourse to prayers and supplications with many tears, 
and how he produced his children in court, which was a mov- 
ing spectacle, together with a posse of his relations and friends ; 
whereas I, who am probably in danger of my life, will do none 
of these things. Perhaps this may come into his mind, and he 
may be set against me, and vote in anger because he is dis- 
pleased at this. Now if there be such a person among you, 
which I am far from affirming, I may fairly reply to him : My 
friend, I am a man, and like other men, a creature of flesh and 
blood, and not of wood or stone, 38 as Homer a says ; and I 
have a family, yes, and sons, O Athenians, three in number, one 
of whom is growing up, and the two others are still young ; and 
yet I will not bring any of them hither in order to petition you 
for an acquittal. And why not ? Not from any self-will or 
disregard of you. Whether I am or am not afraid of death is 
another question, of which I will not now speak. But my rea- 
son simply is, that I feel such conduct to be discreditable to 
myself, and you, and the whole State. One who has reached 
my years, and who has a name for wisdom, whether deserved or 
not, ought not to demean himself. At any rate, the world has 
decided that Socrates is in some way superior to other men. 
And if those among you who are said to be superior in 
35 wisdom and courage, and any other virtue, demean them- 
selves in this way, how shameful is their conduct ! I have seen 
men of reputation, when they have been condemned, behaving 
in the strangest manner : they seemed to fancy that they were 
going to suffer something dreadful if they died, and that they 
could be immortal if you only allowed them to live ; and I 
think that they were a dishonor to the State, and that any 
stranger coming in would say of them that the most eminent 
men of Athens, to whom the Athenians themselves give honor 
and command, are no better than women. And I say that 
these things ought not to be done by those of us who are of 

38 Now, I pray, declare 

Thy lineage, for thou surely art not sprung 
From the old fabulous oak, nor from a rock. 

— Bryant's Odyssey, xix. 201. 
39 The earliest poet whose works were known to the Greeks of this period. 
To him was attributed the authorship of many poems, among them the Iliad 
and the Odyssey. We have no authentic information about him. His date 
was probably between iooo and 850 B. C. 



APOLOGY 23 

reputation ; and if they are done, you ought not to permit 
them ; you ought rather to show that you are more inclined to 
condemn, not the man who is quiet, but the man who gets up 
a doleful scene, and makes the city ridiculous. 

But, setting aside the question of dishonor, there seems to be 
something wrong in petitioning a judge, and thus procuring 
an acquittal instead of informing and convincing him. For 
his duty is, not to make a present of justice, but to give 
judgment ; and he has sworn that he will judge according to 
the laws, and not according to his own good pleasure ; and 
neither he nor we should get into the habit of perjuring our- 
selves — there can be no piety in that. Do not then require 
me to do what I consider dishonorable and impious and 
wrong, especially now, when I am being tried for impiety on 
the indictment of Meletus. For if, O men of Athens, by 
force of persuasion and entreaty, I could overpower your 
oaths, then I should be teaching you to believe that there 
are no gods, and convict myself, in my own defense, of not be- 
lieving in them. But that is not the case; for I do believe 
that there are gods, and in a far higher sense than that in 
which any of my accusers believe in them. And to you and 
to God I commit my cause, to be determined by you as is 
best for vou and me. 



There are many reasons why I am not grieved, O men of 
Athens, at the vote of condemnation. I expected this, , 
and am only surprised that the votes are so nearly equal ; 
for I had thought that the majority against me would have been 
far larger ; but now, had thirty votes 40 gone over to the other 
side, I should have been acquitted. And I may say that I 
have escaped Meletus. And I may say more ; for without the 
assistance of Anytus and Lycon, he would not have had a fifth 
part of the votes, as the law requires, in which case he would 
have incurred a fine of a thousand drachmae, 41 as is evident. 

And so he proposes death as the penalty. And what shall 
I propose on my part, 42 O men of Athens? Clearly that 

40 Socrates was probably not speaking exactly, but in round numbers. 

41 Drachma (drak'ma) ; pi. Drachmae (drak'me) or Drachmas (drak'maz) : 
one drachma was the hundredth part of a mina. See Apology, note 10. 

42 " In Athenian procedure, the penalty inflicted was determined by a 
separate vote of the Dikasts " (officers somewhat like our jurymen) " taken 
after the verdict of guilty. The accuser having named the penalty which he 



24 PLATO THE TEACHER 

which is my due. And what is that which I ought to pay or 
to receive? What shall be done to the man who has never 
had the wit to be idle during his whole life ; but has been 
earless of what the many care about — wealth, and family in- 
terests, and military offices, and speaking in the assembly, and 
magistracies, and plots, and parties. Reflecting that I was 
really too honest a man to follow in this way and live, I did 
not go where I could do no good to you or to myself; but where 
I could do the greatest good privately to every one of you, 
thither I went, and sought to persuade every man among you, 
that he must look to himself, and seek virtue and wisdom be- 
fore he looks to his private interests, and look to the State 
before he looks to the interests of the State ; and that this 
should be the order which he observes in all his actions. 
What shall be done to such a one ? Doubtless some good 
thing, O men of Athens, if he has his reward ; and the good 
should be of a kind suitable to him. What would be a re- 
ward suitable to a poor man who is your benefactor, who de- 
sires leisure that he may instruct you? There can be no 
more fitting reward than maintenence in the prytaneum, 43 
O men of Athens, a reward which he deserves far more than 
the citizen who has won the prize at Olympia 44 in the horse 
or chariot race, whether the chariots were drawn by two 
horses or by many. For I am in want, and he has enough ; 
and he only gives you the appearance of happiness, and I 
give you the reality. And if I am to estimate the penalty 
justly, I say that maintenance in the prytaneum is the 
just return. 
Perhaps you may think that I am braving you in saying 

thought suitable, the accused party on his side named some lighter penalty 
upon himself ; and between these two the Dikasts were called on to make their 
option — no third proposition being admissible. The prudence of an accused 
party always induced him to propose, even against himself, some measure 
of punishment which the Dikasts might be satisfied to accept, in preference 
to the heavier sentence invoked by his antagonist." — Grote's History of 
Greece III., chap lxviii. 

43 Pryt'-a-ne'um : a public building in Greek cities. At Athens entertain- 
ment was furnished in the Prytaneum at public cost to foreign ambassadors 
and to citizens whom the State wished to honor. 

44 A small plain in Elis (e'lfs) near the southwestern coast of Greece where, 
every four years, the chief national festival of the Greeks was celebrated in 
honor of Zeus. An important part of the festival was the Olympian Games 
— contests in wrestling, boxing, leaping, spear and quoit-throwing, and 
races of various kinds. The winners were publicly honored in many ways 
and received undying fame. 



APOLOGY 25 

this, as in what I said before about the tears and prayer. But 
that is not the case. I speak rather because I am convinced 
that I never intentionally wronged any one, although I can- 
not convince you of that — for we have had a short conversa- 
tion only ; but if there were a law at Athens, such as there is 
in other cities, that a capital cause should not be decided in 
one day, then I believe I should have convinced you ; but 
now the time is too short. I cannot in a moment refute great 
slanders ; and, as I am convinced that I never wronged an- 
other, I will assuredly not wrong myself. I will not say of 
myself that I deserve any evil, or propose any penalty. Why 
should I. Because I am afraid of the penalty of death which 
Meletus proposes? When I do not know whether death is a 
good or an evil, why should I propose a penalty which would 
certainly be an evil? Shall I say imprisonment? And why 
should I live in prison, and be the slave of the magistrates of 
the year — of the eleven ? 45 Or shall the penalty be a fine, 
and imprisonment until the fine is paid ? There is the same 
objection. I should have to lie in prison, for money I 
have none, and cannot pay. And if I say exile (and this 
may possibly be the penalty which you will affix), I must 
indeed be blinded by the love of life, if I were to consider 
that when you, who are my own citizens, cannot endure 
my discourses and words, and have found them so grievous 
and odious that you would fain have done with them, others 
are likely to endure me. No indeed, men of Athens, that 
is not very likely. And what a life should I lead, at my 
age, wandering from city to city, living in ever-changing 
exile, and always being driven out ! For I am quite sure 
that into whatever place I go, as here so also there, the 
young men will come to me ; and if I drive them away, 
their elders will drive me out at their desire : and if I let 
them come, their fathers and friends will drive me out for 
their sakes. 

Some one will say : Yes, Socrates, but cannot you hold 
your tongue, and then you may go into a foreign city, and 
no one will interfere with you ? Now I have great difficulty 
in making you understand my answer to this. For if I tell 

45 Police commissioners at Athens who had charge of the prisons and the 
punishment of criminals. Each tribe furnished one member by lot and the 
eleventh was a scribe. 



26 PLATO THE TEACHER 

you that this would be a disobedience to a divine command, 
and therefore that I cannot hold my tongue, you will not 
8 believe that I am serious ; and if I say again that the 
greatest good of man is daily to converse about virtue, 
and all that concerning which you hear me examining myself 
and others, and that the life which is unexamined is not 
worth living — that you are still less likely to believe. And 
yet what I say is true, although a thing of which it is hard for 
me to persuade you. Moreover, I am not accustomed to think 
that I deserve any punishment. Had I money I might have 
proposed to give you what I had, and have been none the 
worse. But you see that I have none, and can only ask you 
to proportion the fine to my means. However, I think that 
I could afford a mina, and therefore I propose that penalty : 
Plato, Crito, Critobulus, and Apollodorus, my friends here, 
bid me say thirty minae, and they will be the sureties. Well, 
then, say thirty minae, let that be the penalty ; for that they 
will be ample security to you. 

Not much time will be gained, O Athenians, in return for 
the evil name which you will get from the detractors of the 
city, who will say that you killed Socrates, a wise man ; for 
they will call me wise even although I am not wise when they 
want to reproach you. If you had waited a little while, your 
desire would have been fulfilled in the course of nature. For 
I am far advanced in years, as you may perceive, and not far 
from death. I am speaking now only to those of you who 
have condemned me to death. And I have another thing to 
say to them : You think that I was convicted through defi- 
ciency of words — I mean, that if I had thought fit to leave 
nothing undone, nothing unsaid, I might have gained an ac- 
quittal. Not so; the deficiency which led to my conviction 
was not of words — certainly not. But I had not the boldness 
or impudence or inclination to address you as you would have 
liked me to address you, weeping and wailing and lamenting, 
and saying and doing many things which you have been ac- 
customed to hear from others and which, as I say, are un- 
worthy of me. But I thought that I ought not to do anything 
common or mean in the hour of danger : nor do I now 
repent of the manner of my defense, and I would rather 
die having spoken after my manner, than speak in your manner 
and live. For neither in war nor yet at law ought any man 



APOLOGY 27 

to use every way of escaping death. For often in battle there 
is no doubt that if a man will throw away his arms, and fall 
on his knees before his pursuers, he may escape death ; and 
in other dangers there are other ways of escaping death, if a 
man is willing to say and do anything. The difficulty, my 
friends, is not in avoiding death, but in avoiding unrighteous- 
ness; for that runs faster than death. I am old and move 
slowly, and the slower runner has overtaken me, and my ac- 
cusers are keen and quick, and the faster runner, who is un- 
righteousness, has overtaken them. And now I depart hence 
condemned by you to suffer the penalty of death, and they 
too go their ways condemned by the truth to suffer the penalty 
of villainy and wrong ; and I must abide by my award — let 
them abide by theirs. I suppose that these things may be re- 
garded as fated, — and I think that they are well. 

And now, O men who have condemned me, I would fain 
prophesy to you ; for I am about to die, and that is the hour 
in which men are gifted with prophetic power. 46 And I pro- 
phesy to you who are my murderers, that immediately after 
my death punishment far heavier than you have inflicted on 
me will surely await you. Me you have killed because you 
wanted to escape the accuser, and not to give an account of 
your lives. But that will not be as you suppose : far other- 
wise. For I say that there will be more accusers of you than 
there are now ; accusers whom hitherto I have restrained : and 
as they are younger they will be more severe with you, and 
you will be more offended at them. For if you think that by 
killing men you can avoid the accuser censuring your lives, 
you are mistaken ; that is not a way of escape which is either 
possible or honorable ; the easiest and the noblest way is not 
to be crushing others, but to be improving yourselves. This 
is the prophecy which I utter before my departure to the 
judges who have condemned me. 

Friends, who would have acquitted me, I would like also 
to talk with you about this thing which has happened, while 
the magistrates are busy, and before I go to the place at which 
I must die. Stay then a while, for we may as well talk with 
one another while there is time. You are my friends, 
and I should like to show you the meaning of this event 
which has happened to me. O my judges — for you I may 
« Compare Phsedo, 84-85. 



28 PLATO THE TEACHER 

truly call judges — I should like to tell you of a wonderful cir- 
cumstance. Hitherto the familiar oracle 47 within me has 
constantly been in the habit of opposing me even about 
trifles, if I was going to make a slip or error about anything ; 
and now as you see there has come upon me that which may 
be thought, and is generally believed to be, the last and 
worst evil. But the oracle made no sign of opposition, either 
as I was leaving my house and going out in the morning, or 
when I was going up into this court, or while I was speaking, 
at anything which I was going to say ; and yet I have often 
been stopped in the middle of a speech, but now in nothing I 
either said or did touching this matter has the oracle opposed 
me. What do I take to be the explanation of this ? I will 
tell you. I regard this as a proof that what has happened to 
me is a good, and that those of us who think that death is an 
evil are in error. This is a great proof to me of what I am 
saying, for the customary sign would surely have opposed me 
had I been going to evil and not to good. 

Let us reflect in another way, and we shall see that there is 
great reason to hope that death is a good, for one of two 
things : either death is a state of nothingness and utter un- 
consciousness, or, as men say, there is a change and migra- 
tion of the soul from this world to another. Now if you sup- 
pose that there is no consciousness, but a sleep like the sleep 
of him who is undisturbed even by the sight of dreams, death 
will be an unspeakable gain. For if a person were to select 
the night in which his sleep was undisturbed even by dreams, 
and were to compare with this the other days and nights of 
his life, and then were to tell us how many days and nights 
he had passed in the course of his life better and more pleas- 
antly than this one, I think that any man, I will not say a 
private man, but even the great king 48 will not find many such 
days or nights, when compared with the others. Now if 
death is like this, I say that to die is gain ; for eternity is then 
only a single night. But if death is the journey to another 
place, and there, as men say, all the dead are, what good, O 
my friends and judges, can be greater than this ? If in- 
deed when the pilgrim arrives in the world below, he is 
delivered from the professors of justice in this world, and finds 
the true judges who are said to give judgment there, Minos 
47 Compare Apology, 31. 48 The king of Persia. 



APOLOGY 29 

and Rhadamanthus and JEacus i9 and Triptolemus, 50 and other 
sons of God who were righteous in their own life, that pil- 
grimage will be worth making. What would not a man give 
if he might converse with Orpheus 51 and Musaeus 52 and He- 
siod 53 and Homer 54 ? Nay, if this be true, let me die again 
and again. I, too, shall have a wonderful interest in a place 
where I can converse with Palamedes, 55 and Ajax M the son of 
Telamon, and other heroes of old, who have suffered death 
through an unjust judgment ; and there will be no small pleas- 
ure, as I think, in comparing my own sufferings with theirs. 
Above all, I shall be able to continue my search into true and 
false knowledge ; as in this world, so also in that ; I shall find 
out who is wise, and who pretends to be wise, and is not. 
What would not a man give, O judges, to be able to examine 
the leader of the great Trojan expedition 57 ; or Odysseus 58 or 
Sisyphus, 59 or numberless others, men and women too ! What 
infinite delight would there be in conversing with them and 
asking them questions ! For in that world they do not put a 

49 In the Gorgias, another of Plato's dialogues, Socrates relates the follow- 
ing myth. There was of old a law that the just and holy man should go 
after death to the Islands of the Blest, but the wicked man should go to 
Tartarus, the house of punishment. Now, it often happened that a soul 
went to the wrong place after death. This was because judgment had been 
passed before death, when the material bodies and garments of the judges 
and the judged formed a double veil, which prevented clear vision and cor- 
rect judgment. As a remedy Zeus appointed his three sons, ^Eacus (e'a- 
cus), Minos (mi'nos), and Rhadamanthus (rad'a-man'thus), to become 
after death judges in the world below, where with naked souls they could 
pierce the naked souls of the dead, and the judgment would be just. 

50 Triptolemus (trrp-t61'e-mus): a legendary character noted for his piety 
and beneficence. 

51 Orpheus (6r'fe-us): a celebrated mythical poet and musician. See Pro- 
tagoras, note 28. 

52 Musaeus (mu-se-us): a mythological musician, seer, and priest. See 
Protagoras, note 28. 

53 Hesiod (he'sf-od): a celebrated Greek poet, almost, if not quite, as an- 
cient as Homer. Many works attributed to him are extant. 

54 See Apology, note 39. 

55 Palamedes (pal'a-me'dez): a Greek hero of the Trojan War, noted for 
his wisdom and ingenuity. The Greeks attributed many inventions to 
him. 

56 Ajax [a'jax, son of Telamon (teTa-mon)]: a Greek hero of surpassing 
strength and stature, second only to Achilles in bravery at the siege of 
Troy. 

57 See Apology, note 21. 

58 Odysseus (5-dys'sus): one of the most illustrious Greek heroes of the 
Trojan War, noted for his courage and cunning. The adventures of his 
twenty years of wandering on his return from Troy are related in Homer's 
Odyssey. 

5a Sisyphus (sfsT-fus), the legendary builder and King of Corinth. 



30 PLATO THE TEACHER 

man to death for this ; certainly not. For besides being hap- 
pier in that world than in this, they will be immortal, if what 
is said is true. 

Wherefore, O judges, be of good cheer about death, and 
know this of a truth — that no evil can happen to a good man, 
either in life or after death. He and his are not neglected by 
the gods ; nor has my own approaching end happened by 
mere chance. But I see clearly that to die and be released 
was better for me ; and therefore the oracle gave no sign. 
For which reason, also, I am not angry with my accusers or 
my condemners ; they have done me no harm, although 
neither of them meant to do me any good \ and for this I may 
gently blame them. 

Still I have a favor to ask of them. When my sons are 
grown up, I would ask you, O my friends, to punish them ; 
and I would have you trouble them, as I have troubled you, 
if they seem to care about riches, or anything, more than 
about virtue ; or if they pretend to be something when they 
are really nothing, — then reprove them, as I have reproved 
you, for not caring about that for which they ought to care, 
and thinking that they are something when they are really 
nothing. 60 And if you do this, I and my sons will have 
received justice at your hands. 

The hour of departure has arrived, and we go our ways— I 
to die, and you to live. Which is better God only knows. 

so << F or jf a man think himself to be something when he is nothing, he de- 
ceiveth himself. "— GaL, vi. 3. 



EUTHYDEMUS 



INTRODUCTION 

The Euthydemus is a farce — with a purpose. The clew to 
the purpose is found in the conversation between Socrates 
and Crito at the close of the dialogue. Crito was a well-to- 
do Athenian citizen and a warm personal friend of Socrates. 
As a citizen, business man, and father, he had the interests 
and was naturally inclined to share the average opinions of 
his fellow-citizens. Like other Athenians, he was accordingly 
inclined to distrust the new breed of men called Sophists, 
who were turning the world upside down with their teach- 
ings. He knew and loved and trusted Socrates, and did not 
therefore confuse him with the Sophists ; but he saw that 
others did so, and partly for fear on Socrates' account, 
partly for fear that his sons would be misled and corrupted 
by the new learning, he came to Socrates with anxious ques- 
tions and warnings. 

The dialogue Euthydemus is intended to show the differ- 
ence between Socrates and the Sophists in such a way that a 
wayfaring man, though a fool, should not confuse them. 
The Sophists have nothing real to teach, — believe in nothing 
real to teach ; Socrates believes unvaryingly in the reality and 
power of the truth. Their art is word trickery ; the art of 
Socrates is step-by-step approach to the truth. Their pur- 
pose is to get the boy's money ; Socrates will take no money, 
but wants to save the boy's life. In spite of these differences, 

3 33 



34 PLATO THE TEACHER 

Grote is doubtless right in saying that if you had asked an 
Athenian citizen of that time to name one or two Sophists, 
he would probably have replied, Socrates and Plato, so hard 
it is to make the public discriminate. 

There is a deep pathos in Crito's bewilderment about what 
to do with his sons. Shall he bring them up as money- 
makers, ignorant of divine philosophy? Shall he commit 
them to some of the teachers of the new learning ? What 
shall he do with them ? The philosophy of Socrates is there 
face to face with a real question, not to be evaded. Socrates 
did not hesitate to reply. 



EUTHYDEMUS 



PERSONS OF THE DIALOGUE.* 

Socrates, who is the narrator Euthydemus. 

of the Dialogue. Dionysodorus. 

Crito. Ctesippus. 
Cleinias. 

Scene : — The Lyceum. 8 

Crito. Who was the person, Socrates, with whom you 
were talking yesterday at the Lyceum ? There was such a 
crowd around you that I could not get within hearing, but I 
caught sight of him over their heads, and I made out, as I 
thought, that he was a stranger with whom you were talking : 
who was he? 

Socrates. There were two, Crito; which of them do you 
mean? 

Cri. The one who was seated second from you on the 
right-hand side. In the middle was Cleinias, the young son of 
Axiochus, who has wonderfully grown ; he is only about the 
age of my own Critobulus, 3 but he is much forwarder and very 
good-looking : the other is thin and looks younger than he is. 

1 Crito : see Apology, note 35 ; Euthydemus (u'thy-de'mus) and Dionyso- 
dorus (dl'o-nys'-o-do'rus) : probably merely dramatic characters, " That 
they correspond to any actual persons at Athens, is neither proved nor prob- 
able." Grote's Plato I., p. 536. Ctesippus (te-sip'pus) : the principal knowl- 
edge we have of this young man is gained from this dialogue. He was pres- 
ent at the death of Socrates, Phaedoso. Cleinias (klF ni-as), son of Axiochus 
(ax-i'o-kus), not mentioned elsewhere in Plato. 

2 An enclosure dedicated to Apollo just east of Athens, outside the gate. 
It was decorated with fountains, buildings, and covered walks. It became 
the largest of the three great gymnasia of ancient Athens. It was frequented 
by philosophers and others as a place for retirement and study. 

8 See Apology 33. 

35 



36 PLATO THE TEACHER 

Soc. He whom you mean, Crito, is Euthydemus ; and on 
my left hand there was his brother Dionysodorus, who also 
took part in the conversation. 

Cri. Neither of them are known to me, Socrates ; they are 
a new importation of Sophists, as I should imagine. Of what 
country are they, and what is their line of wisdom ? 

Soc. As to their origin, I believe that they are natives of 
this part of the world, and have migrated from Chios to Thurii, 4 
they were driven out of Thurii, and have been living for many 
years past in this region. As to their wisdom, about which 
you ask, Crito, they are wonderful — consummate! I never 
knew what the true pancratiast 5 was before; they are simply 
made up of fighting, not like the two Acarnanian brothers 6 who 
fight with their bodies only, but this pair are perfect in the use 
of their bodies and have a universal mode of fighting (for they 
are capital at fighting in armor, and will teach the art to 
any one who pays them) : and also they are masters of 
legal fence, and are ready to do battle in the courts; they will 
give lessons in speaking and pleading, and in writing speeches. 
And this was only the beginning of their wisdom, but they have 
at last carried out the pancrastiastic art to the very end, and 
have mastered the only mode of fighting which had been hither- 
to neglected by them; and now no one dares look at them; such 
is their skill in the war of words, that they can refute any 
proposition whether true or false. Now I am thinking, Crito, 
of putting myself in their hands; for they say that in a short 
time they can impart their skill to any one. 

Cri. But, Socrates, are you not too old ? there may be reason 
to fear that. 

Soc. Certainly not, Crito; as I will prove to you, fori have 
the consolation of knowing that they began this art of disputa- 
tion which I covet, quite, as I may say, in old age; last year, 
or the year before, they had none of their new wisdom. I am 

4 Chios (kl'os) : An island in the ^Egean, off the coast of Lydia, colonized 
by Greeks. 

Thurii (thu' rif-i) : a Greek city in southern Italy. 

6 Pancratiast (from pan, all, and kratos, strength) : strictly, one who took 
part in the pancratium (pan-kra'shf-um), an athletic contest which combined 
boxing and wrestling. 

6 Acarnania (ac'ar-na'ni-a) : a district on the western coast of Greece whose 
inhabitants were rude and less civilized than the rest of the Greeks. They 
were skilled in the use of the sling. The brothers mentioned do not seem to 
have been widely known. 



EUTHYDEMUS 37 

only apprehensive that I may bring the two strangers into dis- 
repute, as I have done Connus the son of Metrobius, 7 the harp- 
player, who is still my music-master; for when the boys who 
also go to him see me going, they laugh at me and call him 
grandpapa's master. Now I should not like the strangers to 
experience this sort of treatment, and perhaps they may be 
afraid and not like to receive me because of this; and therefore, 
Crito, I shall try and persuade some old men to go along with 
me to them, as I persuaded them to go to Connus, and I hope 
that you will make one : and perhaps we had better take your 
sons as a bait; they will want to have them, and will be will- 
ing to receive us as pupils for the sake of them. 

Cri. I see no objection, Socrates, if you like; but first I 
wish that you would give me a description of their wisdom, 
that I may know beforehand what we are going to learn. 

Soc. I will tell you at once ; for I cannot say that I did not 
attend: the fact was that I paid great attention to them, and 
I remember and will endeavor to tell you the whole story. I 
was providentially sitting alone in the dressing-room of the 
Lyceum in which you saw me, and was about to depart, when 
as I was getting up I recognized the familiar divine sign: 8 so I 
sat down again, and in a little while the two brothers 
Euthydemus and Dionysodorus came in, and several 
others with them, whom I believe to be their disciples, and they 
walked about in the covered space; they had not taken more 
than two or three turns when Cleinias entered, who, as you 
truly say, is very much improved : he was followed by a host 
of lovers, 9 one of whom was Ctesippus the Paeanian, 10 a well- 
bred youth, but also having the wildness of youth. Cleinias saw 
me from the entrance as I was sitting alone, and at once came 
and sat down on the right hand of me, as you describe ; and 
Dionysodorus and Euthydemus, when they saw him, at first 
stopped and talked with one another, now and then glancing 
at us, for I particularly watched them; and then Euthydemus 
came and sat down by the youth, and the other by me on the 
left hand; the rest anywhere. I saluted the brothers, whom I 
had not seen for a long time; and then I said to Cleinias: 
These two men, Euthydemus and Dionysodorus, Cleinias, are 

7 Connus (kon'nus) ; Metrobius (me-tr5'bi-us). 

8 See Apology, 31 and 40. 

9 See Phaedrus, note 9. 10 Paeania (pe-a'ni-a) : a deme of Attica. 



38 PLATO THE TEACHER 

not in a small but in a large way of wisdom, for they know 
all about war, — all that a good general ought to know about 
the array and command of an army, and the whole art of 
fighting in armor : and they know about the law too, and can 
teach a man how to use the weapons of the courts when he is 
injured. 

They heard me say this, and I was despised by them ; they 
looked at one another, and both of them laughed; and then 
Euthydemus said : Those, Socrates, are matters which we no 
longer pursue seriously; they are secondary occupations to us. 

Indeed, I said, if such occupations are regarded by you as 
secondary, what must the principal one be; tell me, I beseech 
you, what that noble study is ? 

The teaching of virtue, Socrates, he replied, is our principal 
occupation; and we believe that we can impart it better and 
quicker than any man. 

My God ! I said, and where did you learn that ? I always 
thought, as I was saying just now, that your chief accomplish- 
ment was the art of fighting in armor; and this was what I 
used to say of you, for I remember that this was professed by 
you when you were here before. But now if you really have 
the other knowledge, O forgive me: I address you as I would 
superior beings, and ask you to pardon the impiety of my for- 
mer expressions. But are you quite sure about this, 
Dionysodorus and Euthydemus ? the promise is so vast, 
that a feeling of incredulity will creep in. 

You may take our word, Socrates, for the fact. 

Then I think you happier in having such a treasure than 
the great king 11 is in the possession of his kingdom. And 
please to tell me whether you intend to exhibit this wisdom, 
or what you will do. 

That is why we are come hither, Socrates ; and our pur- 
pose is not only to exhibit, but also to teach any one who 
likes to learn. 

But I can promise you, I said, that every unvirtuous per- 
son will want to learn. I shall be the first ; and there is the 
youth Cleinias, and Ctesippus : and here are several others, I 
saki, pointing to the lovers of Cleinias, who were beginning 
' to gather round us. Now Ctesippus was sitting at some dis- 
tance from Cleinias ; and when Euthydemus leaned forward 

11 King of Persia. 



EUTHYDEMUS 39 

in talking with me, he was prevented from seeing Cleinias, 
who was between us ; and so, partly because he wanted to 
look at his love, and also because he was interested, he jumped 
up and stood opposite to us : and all the other admirers of 
Cleinias, as well as the disciples ot Euthydemus and Dionyso- 
dorus, followed his example. And these were the persons 
whom I showed to Euthydemus, telling him that they were 
all eager to learn : to which Ctesippus and all of them with 
one voice vehemently assented, and bid him exhibit the 
power of his wisdom. Then I said : O Euthydemus and 
Dionysodorus, I earnestly request you to do myself and the 
company the favor to exhibit. There may be some trouble 
in giving the whole exhibition ; but tell me one thing, — can 
you make a good man only of him who is convinced that he 
ought to learn of you, or of him also who is not convinced ? 
either because he imagines that virtue is not a thing which 
can be taught at all, or that you two are not the teachers 
of it. Say whether your art is able to persuade such a one 
nevertheless that virtue can be taught ; and that you are the 
men from whom he will be most likely to learn. 

This is the art, Socrates, said Dionysodorus, and no other. 

And you, Dionysodorus, I said, are the men who among 
those who are now living are the most likely to stimulate him 
to philosophy and the study of virtue ? 

Yes, Socrates, I rather think that we are. 

Then I wish that you would be so good as to defer the other 
part of the exhibition, and only try to persuade the youth 
whom you see here that he ought to be a philosopher 
and study virtue. Exhibit that, and you will confer ' 
a great favor on me and on every one present ; for the fact 
is that I and all of us are extremely anxious that he should 
be truly good. His name is Cleinias, and he is, the son of 
Axiochus, and grandson of the old Alcibiades, cousin of the 
Alcibiades that now is. He is quite young, and we are nat- 
urally afraid that some one may get the start of us, and turn 
his mind in a wrong direction, and he may be ruined. Your 
visit, therefore, is most happily timed ; and I hope that you 
will make a trial of the young man, and converse with him 
in our presence, if you have no objection. 

These were pretty nearly the expressions which I used ; 
and Euthydemus, in a lofty and at the same time cheerful 



40 PLATO THE TEACHER 

tone, replied : There can be no objection, Socrates, if the 
young man is only willing to answer questions. 

He is quite accustomed to that, I replied ; for his friends 
often come and ask him questions and argue with him ; so 
that he is at home in answering. 

What followed, Crito, how can I rightly narrate? for not 
slight is the task of rehearsing infinite wisdom, and therefore, 
like the poets, I ought to commence my relation with an in- 
vocation to Memory and the Muses. 12 Now Euthydemus, if 
I remember rightly, began nearly as follows : O Cleinias, are 
those who learn the wise or the ignorant ? 

The youth, overpowered by the question, blushed, and in 
his perplexity looked at me for help ; and I, knowing that he 
was disconcerted, said : Don't be afraid, Cleinias, but answer 
like a man whichever you think ; for my belief is that you 
will derive the greatest good from their questions. 

Whichever he answers, said Dionysodorus, leaning forward 
in my ear and laughing, I prophesy that he will be refuted, 
Socrates. 

While be was speaking to me, Cleinias gave his answer : 
the consequence was that I had no time to warn him of the 

^ predicament in which he was placed, and he answered 
7 that those who learned were the wise. 

Euthydemus proceeded : There are those whom you call 
teachers, are there not ? 

The boy assented. 

And they are the teachers of those who learn, — the gram- 
mar-master and the lyre-master used to teach you and other 
boys ; and you were the learners ? 

Yes. 

And when you were learners you did not as yet know the 
things whiOn you were learning ? 

No, he said. 

And were you wise then ? 

No, indeed, he said. 

But if you were not wise you were unlearned ? 

Certainly. 

You then, learning what you did not know, were unlearned 
when you were learning? 

12 Originally, nymphs of springs whose waters were thought to inspire 
song ; then goddesses of song, music, poetry, the drama and all fine arts. 



EUTHYDEMUS 41 

The youth nodded assent. 

Then the unlearned learn, and not the wise, Cleinias, as 
you imagine. 

At these words the followers of Euthydemus, of whom I 
spoke, like a chorus at the bidding of their director, laughed 
and cheered. Then, before the youth had well time to re- 
cover, Dionysodorus took him in hand, and said : Yes, 
Cleinias; and when the grammar-master dictated to you, 
were they the wise boys or the unlearned who learned the 
dictation ? 

The wise, replied Cleinias. 

Then after all the wise are the learners and not the un- 
learned ; and your last answer to Euthydemus was wrong. 

Then followed another peal of laughter and shouting, which 
came from the admirers of the two heroes, who were ravished 
with their wisdom, while the rest of us were silent and 
amazed. Euthydemus perceiving this determined to persevere 
with the youth ; and in order to heighten the effect went on 
asking another similar question, which might be compared to 
the double turn of an expert dancer. Do those, said he, who 
learn, learn what they know, or what they do not know? 

Dionysodorus said to me in a whisper : That, Socrates, is 
just another of the same sort. 

Good heavens, I said ; and your last question was so good ! 

Like all our other questions, Socrates, he replied, — inevi- 
table. 

I see the reason, I said, why you are in such reputation 
among your disciples. 

Meanwhile Cleinias had answered Euthydemus that those 
who learned, learn what they do not know ; and he put him 
through a series of questions as before. 

Don't you know letters? 

He assented. 

All letters ? 

Yes. 

But when the teacher dictates to you, does he not dictate 
letters ? 

He admitted that. 

Then if you know all letters, he dictates that which you 
know? 

He admitted that also. 



42 PLATO THE TEACHER 



Then, said the other, you do not learn that which he dic- 
tates ; but he only who does not know letters learns ? 

Nay, said Cleinias; but I do learn. 

Then, said he, you learn what you know, if you know all 
the letters ? 

He admitted that. 

Then, he said, you were wrong in your answer. 

The word was hardly out of his mouth when Dionysodorus 
took up the argument, like a ball which he caught, and had 
another throw at the youth. Cleinias, he said, Euthydemus 
is deceiving you. For tell me now, is not learning acquiring 
knowledge of that which one learns ? 

Cleinias assented. 

And knowing is having knowledge at the time ? 

He agreed. 

And not knowing is not having knowledge at the time? 

He admitted that. 

And are those who acquire those who have or have not a 
thing ? 

Those who have not. 

And have you not admitted that those who do not know 
are of the number of those who have not ? 

He nodded assent. 

Then those who learn are of the class of those who acquire, 
and not of those who have? 

He agreed. 

Then, Cleinias, he said, those who do not know learn, and 
not those who know. 

Euthydemus was proceeding to give the youth a third fall, 
but I knew that he was in deep water, and therefore, as I 
wanted to give him a rest, and also in order that he might not 
get out of heart, I said to him consolingly : You must not be 
surprised, Cleinias, at the singularity of their mode of speech: 
This I say because you may not understand what they are do- 
ing with you; they are only initiating you after the manner 
of the Cory ban tes 13 in the mysteries 14 ; and this answers to 

13 The Corybantes (kor-y-ban'tez) were priests of a Phrygian goddess Cyb- 
ele (syb'e-le), whose worship was introduced into Greece among the lower 
ranks of people. Her festivals were celebrated with wild music and dancing, 
in the frenzy of which the worshippers wounded themselves and one another. 

14 Secret religious ceremonies, employed in the worship of certain gods 
and goddesses (one of them Cybele) in which only those who had been ini- 
tiated could take part. 






EUTHYDEMUS 43 

the enthronement, which, if you have ever been initiated, is, 
as you will know, accompanied by dancing and sport ; and 
now they are just prancing and dancing about you, and will 
next proceed to initiate you ; and at this stage you must 
imagine yourself to have gone through the first part of the so- 
phistical ritual, which, as Prodicus says, begins with initiation 
into the correct use of terms. The two strange gentlemen 
wanted to explain to you, as you do not know, that the word 
" to learn " has two meanings, and is used, first, in the sense 
of acquiring knowledge of some matter of which you ~ 
previously have no knowledge, and also, when you have 
the knowledge, in the sense of reviewing this same matter 
done or spoken by the light of this knowledge ; this last is 
generally called "knowing" rather than i ' learning " ; but 
the word " learning " is also used, and you did not see that 
the word is used of two opposite sorts of men, of those who 
know, and of those who do not know, as they explained. 
There was a similar trick in the second question, when they 
asked you whether men learn what they know or what they do 
not know. These parts of learning are not serious, and 
therefore I say that these gentlemen are not serious, but only 
in fun with you. And if a man had all that sort of knowl- 
edge that ever was, he would not be at all the wiser ; he would 
only be able to play with men, tripping them up and overset- 
ting them with distinctions of words. He would be like a 
person who pulls away a stool from some one when he is about 
to sit down, and then laughs and claps his hands at the sight 
of his friend sprawling on the ground. And you must regard 
all that has passed hitherto as merely play. But now I am 
certain that they will proceed to business, and keep their 
promise (I will show them how) ; for they promised to give 
me a sample of the hortatory philosophy, but I suppose that 
they wanted to have a game of play with you first. And 
now, Euthydemus and Dionysodorus, I said, I think that we 
have had enough of this. Will you let me see you exhibiting 
to the young man, and showing him how he is to apply him- 
self to the study of virtue and wisdom ? And I will first show 
you what I conceive to be the nature of the task, and what I 
desire to hear ; and if I do this in a very inartistic and ri- 
diculous manner, do not laugh at me, for I only venture to 
improvise before you because I am eager to hear your wisdom : 



44 PLATO THE TEACHER 

and I must therefore ask you to keep your countenances, and 
your disciples also. And now, O son of Axiochus, let me put 
a question to you: Do not all men desire happiness? And 
yet, perhaps, this is one of those ridiculous questions which 
I am afraid to ask, and which ought not to be asked by a sen- 
sible man : for what human being is there who does not de- 
sire happiness ? 

There is no one, said Cleinias, who does not. 
Well, then, I said, since we all of us desire happiness, 
how can we be happy ? — that is the next question. Shall we 
not be happy if we have many good things? And this per- 
haps, is even a more simple question than the first, for there 
can be no doubt of the answer. 

He assented. 

And what things do we esteem good ? No solemn sage is 
required to tell us this, which may be easily answered ; for 
every one will say that wealth is a good. 

Certainly, he said. 

And are not health and beauty goods, and other personal 
gifts? 

He agreed. 

Now, can there be any doubt that good birth, and power, 
and honors in one's own land, are goods? 

He assented. 

And what other goods are there? I said. What do you 
say of justice, temperance, courage : do you not verily and 
indeed think, Cleinias, that we shall be more right in ranking 
them as goods than in not ranking them as goods ? For a 
dispute might possibly arise about this. What then do you say ? 

They are goods, said Cleinias. 

Very well, I said ; and in what company shall we find a 
place for wisdom — among the goods or not ? 

Among the goods. 

And now, I said, think whether we have left out any con- 
siderable goods. 

I do not think that we have, said Cleinias. 

Upon recollection, I said, indeed I am afraid that we have 
left out the greatest of them all. 

What is that? he asked. 

Fortune, Cleinias, I replied ; which all, even the most 
foolish, admit to be the greatest of goods. 



EUTHYDEMUS 45 

True, he said. 

On second thoughts, I added, how narrowly, O son of Ax- 
iochus, have you and I escaped making a laughing-stock of 
ourselves to the strangers. 

Why do you say that ? 

Why, because we have already spoken of fortune, and are 
but repeating ourselves. 

What do you mean ? 

I mean that there is something ridiculous in putting fortune 
again forward, and saying the same thing twice over. 

He asked what was the meaning of this, and I replied : 
Surely wisdom is good fortune ; even a child may know that. 

The simple-minded youth was amazed ; and, observing 
this, I said to him : Do you not know, Cleinias, that flute- 
players are most fortunate and successful in performing on the 
flute? 

He assented. 

And are not the scribes most fortunate in writing and read- 
ing letters? 

Certainly. 

Amid the dangers of the sea, again, are any more fortunate 
on the whole than wise pilots ? 

None, certainly. 

And if you were engaged in war, in whose company would 
you rather take the risk — in company with a wise general, or 
with a foolish one? 

With a wise one. 

And if you were ill, whom would you rather have as a com- 
panion in a dangerous illness — a wise physician, or an igno- 
rant one ? 

A wise one. 

You think, I said, that to act with a wise man is more fort- 
unate than to act with an ignorant one ? 

He assented. 

Then wisdom always makes men fortunate : for by wisdom 
no man would ever err, and therefore he must act rightly and 
succeed, or his wisdom would be wisdom no longer. At ~ 
last we somehow contrived to agree in a general conclu- 
sion, that he who had wisdom had no longer need of fortune. 
I then recalled to his mind the previous state of the question. 
You remember, I said, our making the admission that we 



46 PLATO THE TEACHER 

should be happy and fortunate if many good things were 
present with us ? 

He assented. 

And should we be happy by reason of the presence of good 
things, if they profited us not, or if they profited us? 

If they profited us, he said. 

And would they profit us, if we only had them and did not 
use them ? For example, if we had a great deal of food and 
did not eat, or a great deal of drink and did not drink, should 
we be profited ? 

Certainly not, he said. 

Or would an artisan, who had all the implements necessary 
for his work, and did not use them, be any better for the pos- 
session of all that he ought to possess ? For example, would 
a carpenter be any the better for having all his tools and 
plenty of wood, if he never worked ? 

Certainly no, he said. 

And if a person had wealth, and all the goods of which we 
were just now speaking, and did not use them ; would he be 
happy because he possessed them ? 

No indeed, Socrates. 

Then, I said, a man who would be happy must not only 
have the good things, but he must also use them ; there is no 
advantage in merely having them. 

True. 

Well, Cleinias, but if you have the use as well as the pos- 
session of good things, is that sufficient to confer happiness ? 

Yes, in my opinion. 

And may a person use them either rightly or wrongly ? 

He must use them rightly. 

That is quite true, I said. And the wrong use of a thing is 
far worse than the non-use ; for the one is an evil, and the 
£ other is neither a good nor an evil. You admit that ? 
He assented. 

Now in the working and use of wood, is not that which 
gives the right use simply the knowledge of the carpenter? 

Nothing else, he said. 

And surely, in the manufacture of vessels, knowledge is 
that which gives the right way of making them ? 

He agreed. 

And in the use of the goods of which we spoke at first, — 



EUTHYDEMUS 47 

wealth and health and beauty, — is not knowledge that which 
directs us to the right use of them, and guides our practice 
about them ? 

Knowledge, he replied. 

Then in every possession and every use of a thing, knowl- 
edge is that which gives a man not only good fortune but 
success ? 

He assented. 

And tell me, I said, O tell me, what do possessions profit a 
man, if he have neither sense nor wisdom ? Would a man be 
better off, having and doing many things without wisdom, or 
a few things with wisdom ? Look at the matter thus : if he 
did fewer things would he not make fewer mistakes ? if he 
made fewer mistakes would he not have fewer misfortunes? 
and if he had fewer misfortunes would he not be less misera- 
ble? 

Certainly, he said. 

And who would do least — a poor man or a rich man ? 

A poor man. 

A weak man or a strong man ? 

A weak man. 

A noble man or a mean man ? 

A mean man. 

And a coward would do less than a courageous and temper- 
ate man ? 

Yes. 

And an indolent man less than an active man ? 

He assented. 

And a slow man less than a quick ; and one who had dull 
perceptions of seeing and hearing less than one who had keen 
ones? 

All this was mutually allowed by us. 

Then, I said, Cleinias, the sum of the matter appears to be 
that the goods of which we spoke before are not to be regarded 
as goods in themselves, but the degree of good and evil in 
them depends on whether they are or are not under the guid- 
ance of knowledge : under the guidance of ignorance, they 
are greater evils than their opposites, inasmuch as they are 
more able to minister to the evil principle which rules them ; 
and when under the guidance of wisdom and virtue, they are 
greater goods : but in themselves they are nothing ? 



48 PLATO THE TEACHER 

That, he said, appears to be certain. 

What then, I said, is the result of all this ? Is not this the 
result — that other things are indifferent, and that wisdom is 
the only good, and ignorance the only evil ? 

He assented. 

Let us consider this further point, I said : Seeing that all 
men desire happiness, and happiness, as has been shown, is 
o gained by a use, and a right use, of the things of life, 
and the right use of them, and good fortune in the use of 
them, is given by knowledge, the inference is that every man 
ought by all means to try and make himself as wise as he 
can ? 

Yes, he said. 

And the desire to obtain this treasure, which is far more 
precious than money, from a father or a guardian or a friend 
or a suitor, whether citizen or stranger — the eager desire and 
prayer to them that they would impart wisdom to you, is not 
at all dishonorable, Cleinias ; nor is any one to be blamed for 
doing any honorable service or ministration to any man, 
whether a lover or not, if his aim is wisdom. Do you agree 
to that, I said. 

Yes, he said, I quite agree, and think that you are right. 

Yes, I said, Cleinias, if only wisdom can be taught, and 
does not come to man spontaneously; for that is a point 
which has still to be considered, and is not yet agreed upon 
by you and me. 

But I think, Socrates, that wisdom can be taught, he said. 

Best of men, I said, I am delighted to hear you say that ; 
and I am also grateful to you for having saved me from a long 
and tiresome speculation as to whether wisdom can be taught 
or not. But now, as you think that wisdom can be taught, 
and that wisdom only can make a man happy and fortunate, 
will you not acknowledge that all of us ought to love Wisdom, 
and that you in particular should be of this mind and try to 
love her ? 

Certainly, Socrates, he said ; and I will do my best. 

I was pleased at hearing this ; and I turned to Dionysodorus 
and Euthydemus and said : That is an example, clumsy and 
tedious I admit, of the sort of exhortations which I desire you 
to offer ; and I hope that one of you will set forth what I 
have been saying in a more artistic style : at any rate take up 



EUTHYDEMUS 49 

the inquiry where I left off, and next show the youth whether 
he should have all knowledge ; or whether there is one sort of 
knowledge only which will make him good and happy, and 
what that is. For, as I was saying at first, the improvement 
of this young man in virtue and wisdom is a matter which we 
have very much at heart. 

Thus I spoke, Crito, and was all attention to what was 
coming. I wanted to see how they would approach the ques- 
tion, and where they would start in their exhortation to R 
the young man that he should practice wisdom and 
virtue. Dionysodorus the elder spoke first. Everybody's 
eyes were directed toward him, perceiving that something 
wonderful might shortly be expected. And certainly they 
were not far wrong ; for the man, Crito, began a remarkable 
discourse well worth hearing, and wonderfully persuasive as an 
exhortation to virtue. 

Tell me, he said, Socrates and the rest of you who say that 
you want this young man to become wise, are you in jest or 
in real earnest ? 

(I was led by this to imagine that they fancied us to have 
been jesting when we asked them to converse with the youth, 
and that this made them jest and play, and being under this 
impression, I was the more decided in saying that we were in 
profound earnest.) Dionysodorus said . 

Reflect, Socrates ; you may have to deny your words. 

I have reflected, I said ; and I shall never deny my words. 

Well, said he, and so you say that you wish Cleinias to be- 
come wise ? 

Undoubtedly. 

And he is not wise yet ? 

At least his modesty will not allow him to say that he is. 

You wish him, he said, to become wise and not to be ig- 
norant ? 

That we do. 

You wish him to be what he is not, and no longer to be 
what he is. 

I was thrown into consternation at this. 

Taking advantage of my consternation he added : You wish 
him no longer to be what he is, which can only mean that you 
wish him to perish. Pretty lovers and friends they must be 
who want their favorite not to be, or to perish ! 



50 PLATO THE TEACHER 

When Ctesippus heard this he got very angry (as a lover 
might) and said : Strangers of Thurii — if politeness would 
allow me I should say, You be hanged. What can make you 
tell such a lie about me and the others, which I hardly like to 
repeat, as that I wish Cleinias to perish ? 

Euthydemus replied : And do you think, Ctesippus, that it 
is possible to tell a lie ? 

Yes, said Ctesippus ; I should be mad to deny that. 
8 And in telling a lie, do you tell the thing of which 

4 you speak or not ? 

You tell the thing of which you speak. 

And he who tells, tells that thing which he tells, and no 
other ? 

Yes, said Ctesippus. 

And that is a distinct thing apart from other things ? 

Certainly. 

And he who says that thing says that which is ? 

Yes. 

And he who says that which is, says the truth. And there- 
fore Dionysodorus, if he says that which is, says the truth of 
you and no lie. 

Yes, Euthydemus, said Ctesippus; but in saying this, he 
says what is not. 

Euthydemus answered : And that which is not is not. 

True. 

And that which is not is nowhere ? 

Nowhere. 

And can any one do anything about that which has no 
existence, or do to Cleinias that which is not and is no- 
where ? 

I think not, said Ctesippus. 

Well, but do rhetoricians, when they speak in the assembly 
do nothing? 

Nay, he said, they do something.' 

And doing is making ? 

Yes. 

And speaking is doing and making ? 

He agreed. 

Then no one says that which is not, for in saying that, he 
would be doing nothing ; and you have already acknowledged 
that no one can do what is not. And therefore, upon your 



EUTHYDEMUS 5 I 

own showing, no one says what is false ; but if Dionysodorus 
says anything, he says what is true and what is. 

Yes, Euthydemus, said Ctesippus ; but he speaks of things 
in a certain way and manner, and not as they really are. 

Why, Ctesippus, said Dionysodorus, do you mean to say 
that any one speaks of things as they are ? 

Yes, he said,— all gentlemen and truth-speaking persons. 

And are not good things good, and evil things evil ? 

He assented. 

And you say that gentlemen speak of things as they are? 

Yes. 

Then the good speak evil of evil things, if they speak of 
them as they are ? 

Yes, indeed, he said ; and they speak evil of evil men. 
And if I may give you a piece of advice, you had better take 
care that they don't speak evil of you, since I can tell you that 
the good speak evil of the evil. 

And do they speak great things of the great, rejoined Euthy- 
demus, and warm things of the warm ? 

Yes, indeed, said Ctesippus ; and they speak coldly of the 
insipid and cold dialectician. 

You are abusive, Ctesippus, you are abusive ! 

Indeed, I am not, Dionysodorus, he replied ; for I love you 
and am giving you friendly advice, and, if I could, would R 
persuade you not to make so uncivil a speech to me as 
that I desire my beloved, whom I value above all men, to 
perish. 

I saw that they were getting exasperated with one another, 
so I made a joke with him and said : O Ctesippus, I think that 
we must allow the strangers to use language in their own way, 
and not quarrel with them about words, but be thankful for 
what they give us. If they know how to destroy men in such 
a way as to make good and sensible men out of bad and foolish 
ones — whether this is a discovery of their own, or whether 
they have learned from some one else, this new sort of death 
and destruction, which enables them to get rid of a bad man 
and put a good one in his place — if they know this (and they 
do know this — at any rate they said just now that this was 
the secret of their newly-discovered art) — let them, in their 
phraseology, destroy the youth and make him wise, and all of 
us with him. But if you young men do not like to trust your- 



52 PLATO THE TEACHER 

selves with them, then let the experiment be made on the body 
of an old man. I will be the Carian 15 on whom they shall 
operate. And here I offer my old person to Dionysodorus ; 
he may put me into the pot, like Medea 16 the Colchian, kill 
me, pickle me, eat me, if he will make me good. 

Ctesippus said : And I, Socrates, am ready to commit myself 
to the stranger ; they may skin me alive, if they please (and 
I am pretty well skinned by them already), if only my skin is 
made at last, not like that of Marsyas, 17 into a leathern bottle, 
but into apiece of virtue. And here is Dionysodorus fancying 
that I am angry with him, when I am really not angry at all ; 
I do but contradict him when he seems to me to be in the 
wrong : and you must not confound abuse and contradiction, 
O illustrious Dionysodorus ; for they are quite different things. 

Contradiction ! said Dionysodorus ; why, there never was 
such a thing. 

Certainly there is, he replied ; there can be no question of 
that. Do you, Dionysodorus, maintain that there is not ? 

You will never prove to me, he said, that you have heard 
any one contradicting any one else. 

Indeed, he said : then now you may hear Ctesippus contra- 
dicting Dionysodorus. Are you prepared to make that good ? 

Certainly, he said. 

Well, then, are not words expressive of things ? 

Yes. 

Of their existence or of their non existence ? 

Of their existence. For, as you may remember, Ctesippus, 
qs we just now proved that no man could affirm a nega- 
tive ; for no one could affirm that which is not. 

And what does that signify, said Ctesippus ; you and I may 
contradict all the same for that. 

15 Caria (ka'ri-a) : a district of Asia Minor whose inhabitants the Greeks re- 
garded as despicable and stupid. Many of the Greek slaves were Carians. 
" In later times the Carians hired themselves out as mercenaries ; as such 
they were used in forlorn hopes, so as to spare the lives of citizen-soldiers ; 
whence the proverb, — to make the risk not with one's own person but with a 
Carian." L. and S. 

18 Medea (me-de'a) the Colchian : a mythical princess and sorceress of 
Colchis (kol'kis) in Asia, said to have the power to make the old young by 
means of a magic liquid which she prepared. 

17 Marsyas (mar'sy-as): a minor divinity who found the flute discarded by 
the goddess Athene and who became so skilful with it that he challenged 
Apollo, patron god of the lyre, to a contest. The Muses decided in favor 
of Apollo, who then flayed Marsyas alive. 



EUTHYDEMUS 53 

But can we contradict one another, said Dionysodorus, 
when both of us are describing the same thing ? Then we 
must surely be speaking the same thing ? 

He admitted that. 

Or when neither of us is speaking of the same thing ? For 
then neither of us says a word about the thing at all ? 

He granted that also. 

Bnt when I describe something and you describe another 
thing, or I say something and you say nothing, is there any 
contradiction? How can he who speaks contradict him who 
speaks not ? 

Here Ctesippus was silent; and I in my astonishment said : 
What do you mean, Dionysodorus ? I have often heard, and 
have been amazed, to hear this thesis of yours, which is main- 
tained and employed by the disciples of Protagoras, 18 and others 
before them, and which to me appears to be quite wonderful 
and suicidal, as well as destructive, and I think that I am 
most likely to hear the truth of this from you. The dictum 
is that there is no such thing as falsehood ; a man must either 
say what is true or say nothing. Is not that your position? 

He assented. 

But if he cannot speak falsely, may he not think falsely ? 

No, he cannot, he said. 

Then there is no such thing as false opinion ? 

No, he said. 

Then there is no such thing as ignorance, or men who are 
ignorant ; for is not ignorance, if there be such a thing, a mis- 
take of facts ? 

Certainly, he said. 

And that is impossible? 

Impossible, he replied. 

Are you saying this as a paradox, Dionysodorus ; or do you 
seriously maintain that no man is ignorant ? 

Do you refute me ? he said. 

But how can I refute you, if, as you say, falsehood is im- 
possible ? 

Very true, said Euthydemus. 

Neither did I tell you just now to refute me, said Dionyso- 
dorus ; for how can I tell you to do that which is not ? 

18 Protagoras (pro-tSg'o-ras) : a celebrated Sophist. See the dialogue Pro- 
tagoras. 



54 PLATO THE TEACHER 

Euthydemus, I said, I have but a dull conception of these 
subtleties and excellent devices of wisdom ; I am afraid that I 
hardly understand them, and you must forgive me therefore if 

s I ask a very stupid question : if there be no falsehood or 

7 false opinion or ignorance, there can be no such thing 
as erroneous action, for a man cannot fail of acting as he is 
acting — that is what you mean ? 

Yes, he replied. 

And now, I said, I will ask my stupid question : If there is 
no such thing as error in deed, word, or thought, then what, 
in the name of goodness, do you come hither to teach ? And 
were you not just now saying that you could teach virtue best 
of all men, to any one who could learn ? 

And are you such an old fool, Socrates, rejoined Dionyso- 
dorus, that you bring up now what I said at first — and if I 
had said anything last year, I suppose that you would bring 
that up — but are nonplussed at the words I have just uttered ? 

Why, I said, they are not easy to answer ; for they are the 
words of wise men : and indeed I have a great difficulty in 
knowing what you mean in that last expression of yours, " That 
I am nonplussed at them. ,, What do you mean by that, 
Dionysodorus ? You must mean that I have no refutation of 
them. Tell me if the words have any other sense. 

No, he said ; the sense or meaning of them is that there is a 
difficulty in answering them ; and I wish that you would answer. 

What, before you, Dionysodorus ? I said. 

Answer, said he. 

And is that fair ? 

Yes, quite fair, he said. 

Upon what principle ? I said. I can only suppose that you 
are a very wise man, who comes to us in the character of a 
great logician, and who knows when to answer and when not 
to answer — and now you won't open your mouth at all, be- 
cause you know that you ought not. 

You prate, he said, instead of answering. But if, my good 
sir, you admit that I am wise, answer as I tell you. 

1 suppose that I must obey, for you are master. Put the 
question. 

Are the things which have sense alive or lifeless? 

They are alive. 

And do you know of any word which is alive? 



EUTHYDEMUS 55 

I cannot say that I do. 

Then why did you ask me what sense my words had ? 

Why, because I was stupid and made a mistake. And yet, 
perhaps, I was right after all in saying that words have a 
sense ; what do you say, wise man ? If I was not in error, 
and you do not refute me, all your wisdom will be nonplussed; 
but if I did fall into error, then again you are wrong in saying 
that there is no error, — and this remark was made by 
you not quite a year ago. I am inclined to think, how- " 
ever, Dionysodorus and Euthydemus, that this argument 
is not very likely to advance : even your skill in the subtleties 
of logic, which is really amazing, has not found out the way 
of throwing another and not falling yourself. 

Ctesippus said : Men of Chios, Thurii, or however and 
whatever you call yourselves, I wonder at you, for you seem 
to have no objection to talking nonsense. 

Fearing that there would be high words, I endeavored to 
soothe Ctesippus, and said to him : To you, Ctesippus, I 
must repeat what I said before to Cleinias — that you don't 
understand the peculiarity of these philosophers. They are 
not serious, but, like the Egyptian wizard, Proteus, 19 they 
take different forms and deceive us by their enchantments ; 
and let us, like Menelaus, refuse to let them go until they 
show us their real form and character. When they are in 
earnest their full beauty will appear : let us then beg and en- 
treat and beseech them to shine forth. And I think that I 
had better show them once more the form in which I pray to 
behold them. 

[Socrates gives another example of his method, but the 
conversation again returns to the level of the two sophists. 
Several pages of this quibbling are omitted. Their last 
masterpiece was a proof that all things which have life are 
animals, that the gods have life and so are animals, that the 
gods are your gods, and so you may sell them as you do 
other animals.] 

19 Proteus (prS'teus) : a minor sea divinity who lived on an island off the 
coast of Egypt. He possessed prophetic power but was reluctant to exercise 
the gift and, to avoid doing so, would assume all kinds of shapes. If the one 
consulting him caught and held him fast through all these changes he re- 
turned to his own form and told the truth. Menelaus, the legendary king of 
Sparta, in this way once forced Proteus to prophesy. 



56 PLATO THE TEACHER 

At this I was quite struck dumb, Crito, and lay pros- 
trate. Ctesippus came to the rescue. 

Bravo, Heracles, 20 brave words, said he. 

Bravo Heracles, or is Heracles a bravo ? said Dionyso- 
dorus. 

Poseidon, 21 said Ctesippus, what awful distinctions. I will 
have no more of them ; the pair are invincible. 

Then, my dear Crito, there was universal applause of the 
speakers and their words, and what with laughing and clap- 
ping of hands and rejoicings the two men were quite overpow- 
ered ; for hitherto only their partisans had cheered at each 
successive hit, but now the whole company shouted with de- 
light until the columns of the Lyceum returned the sound, 
seeming almost to sympathize in their joy. To such a pitch 
was I affected myself, that I made a speech, in which I ac- 
knowledged that I had never seen the like of their wisdom ; I 
was their devoted servant, and fell to praising and admiring of 
them. What marvellous dexterity of wit, I said, enabled you 
to acquire this great perfection in such a short time ? There 
is much, indeed, to admire in your words, Euthydemus and 
Dionysodorus, but there is nothing that I admire more than 
your magnanimous disregard of any opinion, — whether of the 
many, or of the grave and reverend seigniors, — which is not 
the opinion of those who are like-minded with you. And I 
do verily believe that there are few who are like you, and 
would approve of your arguments ; the majority of mankind 
are so ignorant of their value, that they would be more 
ashamed of employing them in the refutation of others than 
of being refuted by them. I must further express my approval 
of your kind and public-spirited denial of all differences, 
whether of good and evil, white or black, or any other; the 
result of which is that, as you say, every mouth is stopped, 
not excepting your own, which graciously follows the exam- 
ple of others ; and thus all ground of offense is taken away. 
But what appears to me to be more than all is, that this art 
and invention of yours is so admirably contrived, that in a 
very short time it can be imparted to any one. I observe that 

20 Heracles (her'a-klez) or Hercules (her'ku-lez) : one of the oldest and most 
famous heroes in Greek mythology ; by his gigantic strength he accom- 
plished many wonderful labors. 

21 Poseidon (po-si'don) : god of the sea, and of flowing waters, correspond 
ing to the Roman Neptune. 



EUTHYDEMUS 57 

Ctesippus learned to imitate you in no time. Now this quick- 
ness of attainment is an excellent thing; but at the same time 
I would advise you not to have any more public enter- 
tainments ; there is a danger that men may undervalue 
an art which they have so easy an opportunity of learning ; 
the exhibition would be best of all, if the discussion were con- 
fined to your two selves ; but if there must be an audience, 
let him only be present who is willing to pay a handsome fee, 
— you should be careful of this, — and if you are wise, you will 
also bid your disciples discourse with no man but you and 
themselves. For only what is rare is valuable ; and water, 
which, as Pindar 22 says, is the best of all things, is also the 
cheapest. And now I have only to request that you will re- 
ceive Cleinias and me among your pupils. 

Such was the discussion, Crito; and after a few more words 
had passed between us we went away. I hope that you will 
come to them with me, since they say that they are able to 
teach any one who will give them money, however old or 
stupid. And one thing which they said I must repeat for your 
especial benefit, — that not even the business of making money 
need hinder any man from taking in their wisdom with ease. 

Cri. Truly, Socrates, though I am curious and ready to 
learn, yet I fear that I am not like-minded with Euthydemus, 
but one of the other sort, who, as you were saying, would rather 
be refuted by such arguments than use them in refutation of 
others. And though I may appear ridiculous in venturing to 
advise you, I think that you may as well hear what was said to 
me by a man of very considerable pretensions — he was a pro- 
fessor of legal oratory — who came away from you while I was 
walking up and down. "Crito," said he to me, "are you 
attending to these wise men ? " " No, indeed/' I said to him; 
"I could not get within hearing of them, there was such a 
crowd." " You would have heard something worth hearing if 
you had." " What was that?" I said. "You would have 
heard the greatest masters of the art of rhetoric discoursing." 
"And what did you think of them? " I said. " What did I 
think of them," he said; " what any one would think of them 
who heard them talking nonsense, and making much ado about 
nothing. ' ' That was the expression which he used. ' < Surely, ' ' 
I said, " philosophy is a charming thing." " Charming ! " he 
22 Pindar (pin'dar, 522-450 B.C.) : greatest of Greek lyric poets. 



58 PLATO THE TEACHER 

said; "what simplicity! philosophy is nought; and I think 
that if you had been present you would have been ashamed of 
your friend — his conduct was so very strange in placing 
himself at the mercy of men who care not what they 
say, and fasten upon every word. And these, as I was telling 
you, are supposed to be the most eminent professors of their 
time. But the truth is, Crito, that the study and the men 
themselves are both equally mean and ridiculous. ' ' Now his 
censure of the pursuit, Socrates, whether coming from him or 
from others, appears to me to be undeserved; but as to the 
impropriety of holding a public discussion with such men, I 
confess that I thought he was in the right about that. 

Soc. O Crito, they are marvellous men; but what was I 
going to say ? What manner of man was he who came up to 
you and censured philosophy; was he an orator who himself 
practises in the courts, or an instructor of orators, who makes 
the speeches with which they do battle ? 

Cri. He was certainly not an orator, and I doubt whether 
he had ever been into court ; but they say that he knows the 
business, and is a clever man, and composes wonderful 
speeches. 

Soc. Now I understand, Crito; he is one of an amphibious 
class, whom I was on the point of mentioning — one of those 
whom Prodicus describes as on the border-ground . between 
philosophers and statesmen — they think that they are the wis- 
est of all men, and that they are generally esteemed the wisest; 
nothing but the rivalry of the philosophers stands in their way ; 
and they are of the opinion that if they can prove the philoso- 
phers to be good for nothing, no one will dispute their title to 
the palm of wisdom, for that they are really the wisest, although 
they are apt to be mauled by Euthydemus and his friend, when 
they get hold of them in conversation. This opinion which 
they entertain of their own wisdom is very natural ; for they 
have a certain amount of philosophy, and a certain amount of 
political wisdom ; there is reason in what they say, for they 
argue that they have just enough of both, while they keep out 
of the way of all risks and conflicts and reap the fruits of their 
wisdom. 

Cri. What do you say of them, Socrates ? There is cer- 
tainly something specious in that notion of theirs. 

Soc. Yes, Crito, there is more speciousness than truth ; they 



EUTHYDEMUS 59 

cannot be made to understand the nature of intermediates. For 
all persons or things, which are intermediate between two 
other things, and participant of them — if one of these , 
two things is good and the other evil, are better than the 
one and worse than the other ; but if they are in a mean be- 
tween two good things which do not tend to the same end, they 
fall short of either of their component elements in the attain- 
ment of their ends. Only in the case when the two component 
elements which do not tend to the same end are evil is the 
participant better than either. Now if philosophy and political 
action are both good, but tend to different ends, and they par- 
ticipate in both, and are in a mean between them, then they 
are talking nonsense, for they are worse than either; or, if the 
one be good and the other evil, they are better than the one 
and worse than the other; only on the supposition that they 
are both evil could there be any truth in what they say. I do 
not think that they will admit that their two pursuits are 
either wholly or partly evil; but the truth is, that these phi- 
losopher-politicians who aim at both fall short of both in the 
attainment of their respective ends, and are really third, al- 
though they would like to stand first. There is no need, how- 
ever, to be angry at this ambition of theirs — they may be for- 
given that; for every man ought to be loved who says and 
manfully pursues and works out anything which is at all like 
wisdom : at the same time we shall do well to see them as 
they really are. 

Cri. I have often told you, Socrates, that I am in a constant 
difficulty about my two sons. What am I to do with them ? 
There is no hurry about the younger one, who is only a child ; 
but the other, Critobulus, is getting on, and needs some one 
who will improve him. I cannot help thinking, when I hear 
you talk, that there is a sort of madness in many of our anx- 
ieties about our children : in the first place, about marrying 
a wife of good family to be the mother of them, and then about 
heaping up money for them — and yet taking no care about 
their education. But then again, when I contemplate any of 
those who pretend to educate others, I am amazed. They 
all seem to me to be such outrageous beings, if I am to 
confess the truth : so that I do not know how I can advise the 
youth to study philosophy. 

Soc. Dear Crito, do you not know that in every profession 



60 PLATO THE TEACHER 

the inferior sort are numerous and good for nothing, and the 
good are few and beyond all price : for example, are not gym- 
nastic and rhetoric and money- making and the art of the gen- 
eral, noble arts ? 

Cri. Certainly they are, in my judgment. 

Soc. Well, and do you not see that in each of these arts the 
many are ridiculous performers ? 

Cri. Yes, indeed, that is very true. 

Soc. And will you on this account shun all these pursuits 
yourself and refuse to allow them to your son ? 

Cri. That would not be reasonable, Socrates. 

Soc. Do you then be reasonable, Crito, and do not mind 
whether the teachers of philosophy are good or bad, but think 
only of Philosophy herself. Try and examine her well and 
truly, and if she be evil seek to turn away all men from her, 
and not your sons only ; but if she be what I believe that she 
is, then follow her and serve her, you and your house, as the 
saying is, and be of good cheer. 



PROTAGORAS 



INTRODUCTION 

The Euthydemus shows Socrates in contrast with the baser 
sort of sophists ; the Protagoras shows him in contrast with 
the higher sort.* 

The points of contrast between the philosopher and the 
Sophists are, however, by no means so clear in the latter 
dialogue. A fundamental difficulty in the interpretation of 
this dialogue lies in the fact that one can not always be sure 
what Plato's own opinion is about the views expressed by 
the different speakers. Protagoras and his fellow Sophists 
are made to speak effectively, sometimes nobly. Socrates 
is sometimes deeply in earnest, sometimes deeply ironical. 
To decide just what Plato himself believes on every question 
discussed is therefore difficult and sometimes impossible. 

The dialogue is in fact deeply dramatic. The Sophists 
here portrayed are not men of straw labelled with opinions 
which are to be destroyed in the conclusion. These men 
have dramatic if not also historic vitality. They are ex- 
hibited as scholars and gentlemen, whose views are at any 
rate worth serious attention. (Consider for example the 
views of Protagoras on the treatment of animals, on the 
capacity of man for improvement as compared with the 
lower animals, and on the influence of civilized as compared 
with savage life upon the individual.) The main contentions 
of Protagoras that virtue can be taught, and that there are 
* See General Introduction, pages xviii, xx, and xxvii. 
63 



64 PLATO THE TEACHER 

many distinct virtues, are also in an important sense true. It 
may even seem to some that Protagoras appears to advan- 
tage in comparison with Socrates. The views set forth by 
Socrates are strange, paradoxical, and to many will seem 
false. That virtue can not be taught, that the virtues are 
one and that virtue is the knowledge of the pleasures and 
pains involved in action, are all statements which are likely to 
meet with strong denial. Careful study will serve to clear 
up some of the difficulties. That virtue can not be taught 
means with Socrates that virtue can not be brought to a man 
but must be born in him. That all the virtues are one 
means with him, that all particular forms or manifestations 
of virtue, such as those we call courage, temperance, etc., 
spring from a common principle, and are in fact one in idea. 
The common principle to which all the virtues are reduced is 
knowledge. Virtue can therefore be taught, — not indeed 
brought to one from without but awakened in one by proper 
influences. The view that virtue is knowledge of the total 
pleasure and pain involved in action has been most severely 
criticized. Plato modified this view in his later dialogues. 
He continued to hold, however, that the purest virtue leads 
to the greatest happiness in this and the future life. 

Taking the dialogue as a whole, one may see that Plato 
means to show the Sophists at their best and then to show 
that Socrates was superior to them not simply with their 
own weapons, but in a far higher sense. The Sophists have 
views which often appear excellent, but which are self-con- 
tradictory and for which in any case they can give no deep 
and real reason. Socrates wishes to judge upon the ques- 
tions in issue from the stand -point of absolute truth as re- 
vealed by philosophy. The contrast between the method of 
the Sophists and that of Socrates is as significant as that be- 
tween the doctrines. They put their trust in rhetoric, — in 
the forms of discourse which charm and persuade. Socrates 



INTRODUCTION 65 

chooses the less attractive method of cross-examination, with 
the purpose of revealing the contradictions involved in the 
fine speeches of his antagonists, and with the purpose of ar- 
riving at positive results which are not self-contradictory. 

While the Protagoras is a brilliant example of the sort of 
dispute which, without doubt, frequently took place between 
Socrates and the Sophists, it can not be regarded as Plato's 
most successful presentation of his own point of view. For 
the most complete victory of the philosopher over the Soph- 
ist, in regard to the whole theory of life, one must look to 
the Republic. 
5 



PROTAGORAS 



PERSONS OF THE DIALOGUE. 1 

Socrates, who is the narrator of Protagoras, ") 

the Dialogue to his COMPANION. HiPPiAS, \ Sophists. 

Hippocrates. Prodicus, ) 

Alcibiades. Callias, a wealthy Athenian. 
Critias. 

Scene : — The House of Callias. 

Com. Where do you come from, Socrates ? And yet I need 
hardly ask the question, as I know that you have been 
in chase of the fair Alcibiades. I saw him the day be- Stepn. 
fore yesterday; and he had got a beard like a man, — 
and he is a man, as I may tell you in your ear. But I 
thought that he was still very charming. 

1 Hippocrates (hip-pok'ra-tez) : comparatively unknown ; not mentioned 
elsewhere by Plato. 

Alcibiades (al''si-bi'a-dez) : a beautiful and wealthy Athenian of great 
ability, who spent himself in reckless dissipation. He was in youth an inti- 
mate friend of Socrates, who saw his talent and sought, though without suc- 
cess, to win him from vice to virtue. See Symposium, 212 and following ; 
Apology, note 34. 

Protagoras (pr5-tSg'o-ras) : a celebrated Sophist from Abdera fSb-de'ra, a 
city of Thrace on the ^Egean) celebrated especially for his skill as a rhet- 
orician. He was the first philosopher who received pay for teaching. He 
was very popular and received as much as 100 minae ($1,600 to $1,800) from 
a pupil. He was more serious in his instruction than most of the other Soph- 
ists. 

Hippias (hip'pf-as) of Elis (a city of Greece about one hundred and 
thirty miles west of Athens), was noted for his remarkable memory and gen- 
eral learning. He was boastful and superficial. Two dialogues, attributed 
to Plato, bear his name. 

Prodicus (prod'f-cus) of Ceos (se'os, an island in the ^Egean), was a gram- 
marian, rhetorician, and orator. The expression "wiser than Prodicus" 
became a proverb. 

Callias (kal'li-as). See Apology, note 9. 

Critias (krit'i-as) : an accomplished Athenian ; in youth, a disciple of Soc- 
rates, later the chief of the Thirty Tyrants. See Apology, note 34. 

67 



68 PLATO THE TEACHER 

Soc. What of his beard ? Are you not of Homer's opinion, 
who says that — 

" Youth is most charming when the beard first appears? " 

And that is now the charm of Alcibiades. 

Com. Well, and how do matters proceed ? Have you been 
visiting him, and was he gracious to you ? 

Soc. Yes, I thought that he was very gracious ; and es- 
pecially to-day, for I have just come from him, and he has been 
helping me in an argument. But shall I tell you a strange 
thing ? Although he was present, I never attended to him, and 
several times he quite passed out of my mind. 

Com. What is the meaning of this? Has anything hap- 
pened between you and him? For surely you cannot have 
discovered a fairer love 2 than he is ; certainly not in this city 
of Athens. 

Soc. Yes, much fairer. 

Com. What do you mean — a citizen or a foreigner? 

Soc. A foreigner. 

Com. Of what country ? 

Soc. Of Abdera. 

Com. And is this stranger really in your opinion fairer than 
the son of Cleinias? 3 

Soc. And is not the wiser always the fairer, sweet friend ? 

Com. But have you really met, Socrates, with some wise 
one? 

Soc. Yes ; I would say rather, with the wisest of all living 
men, if you are willing to accord that title to Protagoras. 

Com. What ! Do you mean to say that Protagoras is in 
Athens ? 

Soc. Yes ; he has been here two days. 

Com. And do you just come from an interview with him? 
Soc. Yes ; and I have heard and said many things. 
Com. Then, if you have no engagement, suppose that 
you sit down and tell me what passed, and my attendant shall 
give up his place to you. 

Soc. To be sure ; and I shall be grateful to you for listen- 
ing. 

Com. Thank you, too, for telling us. 

2 See Phsedrus, note 9. 8 Son of Cleinias (kli'nf-as) : Alcibiades. 



PROTAGORAS 69 

Soc. That is thank you twice over. Listen then : — 

Last night, or rather very earlv this morning, Hippocrates, 
the son of Apollodorus and the brother of Phason, 4 gave a tre- 
mendous thump with his staff at my door ; some one opened to 
him, and he came rushing in and bawled out : Socrates, are 
you awake or asleep ? 

I knew his voice, and said : Hippocrates, is that you ? and 
do you bring any news ? 

Good news, he said ; nothing but good. 

Very good, I said ; but what news ? and why have you 
come here at this unearthly hour ? 

He drew nearer to me and said : Protagoras is come. 

Yes, I said ; he came two days ago ; have you only just 
heard of his arrival ? 

Yes, indeed, he said ; I heard yesterday evening. 

At the same time he felt for the truckle-bed, and sat down 
at my feet, and then he said : I heard yesterday quite late in 
the evening, on my return from CEenoe 5 whither I had gone in 
pursuit of my runaway slave Satyrus 6 — as I was going to have 
told you if some other matter had not come in the way ; on 
my return, when we had done supper and were about to retire 
to rest, my brother said to me : Protagoras is come. And I 
was going to you at once, if I had not considered that the 
night was far spent. But when sleep relaxed her hold on me 
after my toil, I got up and came hither direct. 

I, who knew the very courageous madness of the man, said: 
What is the matter? has Protagoras robbed you of anything? 

He replied, laughing : Yes, indeed he has, Socrates, of the 
wisdom which he keeps to himself. 

But, surely, I said, if you give him money, and make 
friends with him, he will make you as wise as he is himself. 

Would to heaven, he replied, that he would ! He might 
take all that I have, and all that my friends have, if he would. 
And that is why I have come to you now, in order that you 
may speak to him on my behalf ; for I am young, and 
also I have never seen nor heard him (when he visited 
Athens before I was but a child) ; and all men praise him, Soc- 
rates, as being the most accomplished of speakers. There is no 

4 Apollodorus (a-poll5-d6'rus) ; Phason (fa'son) : neither one mentioned in 
other dialogues of Plato. 

5 CEnoe (en-o'e) : a deme of Attica. See Apology, note 36. 

6 Satyrus (sat'^-rus). 



70 PLATO THE TEACHER 

reason why we should not go to him at once, and then we 
shall find him at home. He lodges, as I hear, with Callias, 
the son of Hipponicus. 7 Let us start. 

I replied : Not yet, my good friend ; the hour is too early. 
But let us rise and take a turn in the court and wait there un- 
til daybreak, and when the day breaks, then we will go ; for 
Protagoras is generally at home, and we shall be sure to find 
him ; never fear. 

Upon this we got up and walked about in the court, and I 
thought that I would make trial of the strength of his resolu- 
tion. So I examined him and put questions to him. Tell me, 
Hippocrates, I said, as you are going to Protagoras, and will 
be paying your money to him, what is he to whom you are 
going ? and what will he make of you ? If you were going to 
Hippocrates, the Coan, the Asclepiad, 8 and were about to give 
him your money, and some one said to you : As being what, 
do you give money to your namesake Hippocrates, O Hippo- 
crates ? what would you answer ? 

I should say, he replied, that I give money to him as a 
physician. 

And what will he make of you ? 

A physician, he said. 

And if you went to Polycleitus 9 the Argive, or Phidias 10 
the Athenian, and intended to give them money, and some 
one were to ask you : As being what, do you give this money 
to Polycleitus and Phidias ? what would you answer ? 

I should answer, as being statuaries. 

And what will they make of you ? 

A statuary, of course. 

Well now, I said, you and I are going to Protagoras, and 
we are ready to pay him money for you. If our own means 

7 Hipponicus (hip'p5-nl'cus). 

8 Hippocrates (hfp-pok'ra-tez, 460-377 B.C.): a famous Greek physician, 
born in Cos, an island of the JEgesm. He belonged to the race of the As- 
clepiadse (as'kle-pi'a de) so called because supposed to be descendants of 
Asclepius (as-kle'pi-us) or ^Esculapius (es'ku-la'pf-us), god of medicine. This 
family were an order of priests who regarded the knowledge of medicine as 
a secret which they handed down from father to son. 

9 Polycleitus (pol'y-kli'tus, 5th century B.C.): a noted Greek sculptor who 
contributed much to the development of Greek art ; a native of Argos, a 
city of Greece about sixty miles southwest of Athens. 

10 Phidias (ffd'i-as 4907-432? B.C.) : the greatest sculptor and statuary of 
Greece. His works were the glory of Greece, and have never been sur- 
passed. 



PROTAGORAS 71 

are sufficient, and we can gain him with these, we shall be too 
glad ; but if not, then we are to spend your friends' money as 
well. Now suppose, that while we are in this intense state of 
excitement, some one were to say to us : Tell me, Socrates, 
and you Hippocrates, as being what, are you going to pay 
money to Protagoras ? how should we answer him ? I know 
that Phidias is a sculptor, and Homer is a poet ; but what 
appellation is given to Protagoras? how is he designated? 

They call him a Sophist, Socrates, he replied. 

Then we are going to pay our money to him in the charac- 
ter of a Sophist ? 

Certainly. 

But suppose a person were to ask this further question : 

And how about yourself? what will Protagoras make you if 
you go to see him ? 

He answered, with a blush upon his face (for the day 
was just beginning to dawn, so that I could see him) : Unless 
this differs in some way from the former instances, I suppose 
that he will make a Sophist of me. 

And are you not in sober earnest ashamed, I said, at having 
to appear before the Hellenes 11 in the character of a Sophist? 

Indeed, Socrates, if I am to confess the truth, I am. 

But why do you assume, Hippocrates, that the instruction 
of Protagoras is of this nature ? and why may you not learn 
of him in the same way that you learned the arts of the gram- 
marian, or musician, or trainer, 12 not with the view of making 
any of them a profession, but only as a part of education, and 
because a private gentleman and freeman ought to know 
them? 

Just so, he said ; and that, in my opinion, is a far truer ac- 
count of the teaching of Protagoras. 

I said : I wonder whether you know what you are doing ? 

And what am I doing ? 

You are going to commit your soul to the care of a man 
whom you call a Sophist. And yet I hardly think that you 

11 Hellenes (hel-le'nez) : In very ancient times the name Hellas (hel'las) 
was applied to a small district in northern Greece and the name Hellenes to 
the people of that district. In the course of time the application of these 
terms was gradually extended until in Plato's day all Greek people were 
called Hellenes and all countries inhabited by them were included under 
the name Hellas. 

14 Teacher of gymnastics. 



72 PLATO THE TEACHER 

know what a Sophist is, and if not, then you do not even 
know whether you are committing your soul to good or evil. 

I certainly think that I do know, he replied. 

Then tell me, what do you imagine that he is ? 

I take him to be one who is wise and knowing, he replied, 
as his name implies. 13 

And might you not, I said, affirm this of the painter and 
the carpenter also ; are not they, too, wise and knowing ? 
But suppose a person were to ask us : In what are the paint- 
ers wise ? We should answer : In what relates to the making 
of likenessess, and similarly of other things. And if he were 
further to ask : What is the wisdom of the Sophist, and what 
is the manufacture over which he presides ? how should we 
answer him ? 

How should we answer him, Socrates ? What other answer 
could there be but that he presides over the art which makes 
men eloquent? 

Yes, I replied, that is very likely a true, but not a suffi- 
cient answer ; for a further question is involved : About what 
does the Sophist make a man eloquent ? The player on the 
lyre may be supposed to make a man eloquent about that 
which he makes him understand, that is about playing the 
lyre. Is not that true ? 

Yes. 

Then about what does the Sophist make him eloquent ? 
must not he make him eloquent in that which he understands ? 

Yes, that may be assumed. 

And what is that which the Sophist knows and makes his 
disciple know ? 

Indeed, he said, that I cannot tell. 

Then I proceeded to say : Well, but are you aware of the 
danger which you are incurring ? If you were going to com- 
mit the body to some one, and there was a risk of your 
getting good or harm from him, would you not carefully 
consider and ask the opinion of your friends and kindred, 
and deliberate many days as to whether you should give 
him the care of your body? But when the soul is in question, 
which you hold to be of far more value than the body, and 
upon the well or ill-being of which depends your all, — about 
this you never consulted either with your father or with your 
13 The term Sophist is derived from the Greek word sophos, wise. 



PROTAGORAS 73 

brother or with any one of us who are your companions. But 
no sooner does this foreigner appear, than you instantly com- 
mit your soul to his keeping. In the evening, as you say, you 
hear of him, and in the morning you go to him, never delib- 
erating, or taking the opinion of any one as to whether you 
ought to intrust yourself to him or not ; you have quite made 
up your mind that you will be a pupil of Protagoras, and are 
prepared to expend all the property of yourself and of your 
friends in carrying out at any price this determination, al- 
though, as you admit, you do not know him, and have never 
spoken with him : and you call him a Sophist, but are mani- 
festly ignorant of what a Sophist is ; and yet you are going to 
commit yourself to his keeping. 

When he heard me say this he replied : That I suppose, So- 
crates, is the conclusion which I must draw from your words. 

I proceeded : Is not a Sophist, Hippocrates, one who deals 
wholesale or retail in the food of the soul ? To me that ap- 
pears to be the sort of man. 

And what, Socrates, is the food of the soul ? 

Surely, I said, knowledge is the food of the soul ; and we 
must take care, my friend, that the Sophist does not deceive 
us when he praises what he sells, like the dealers wholesale or 
retail who sell the food of the body ; for they praise indis- 
criminately all their goods, without knowing what are really 
beneficial or hurtful : neither do their customers know, with 
the exception of any trainer or physician who may happen to 
buy of them. In like manner those who carry about the 
wares of knowledge, and make the round of the cities, and 
sell or retail them to any customer who is in want of them, 
praise them all alike ; and I should not wonder, O my friend, 
if many of them were really ignorant of their effect upon the 
soul ; and their customers equally ignorant, unless he who 
buys of them happens to be a physician of the soul. If there- 
fore you have understanding of what is good and evil, you 
may safely buy knowledge of Protagoras or of any one ; but 
if not, then, O my friend, pause, and do not hazard 
your dearest interests at a game of chance. For there is 
far greater peril in buying knowledge than in buying meat and 
drink : the one you purchase of the wholesale or retail dealer, 
and carry them away in other vessels, and before you receive 
them into the body as food, you may deposit them at home 



74 FLATO THE TEACHER 

and call in any experienced friend who knows what is good to 
be eaten or drunken, and what not, and how much and when ; 
and hence the danger of purchasing them is not so great. But 
when you buy the wares of knowledge you cannot carry them 
away in another vessel ; they have been sold to you, and you 
must take them into the soul and go your way, either greatly 
harmed or greatly benefited by the lesson : and therefore we 
should think about this and take counsel with our elders ; for 
we are still young — too young to determine such a matter. 
And now let us go, as we were intending, and hear Protago- 
ras ; and when we have heard what he has to say, we may 
take counsel of others ; for not only is Protagoras at the 
house of Callias, but there is Hippias of Elis, and, if I am not 
mistaken, Prodicus of Ceos, and several other wise men. 

To this we agreed, and proceeded on our way until we 
reached the vestibule of the house; and there we stopped in 
order to finish a dispute which had arisen as we were going 
along ; and we stood talking in the vestibule until we had fin- 
ished and come to an understanding. And I think that the 
door-keeper, who was a eunuch, and who was probably an- 
noyed at the great inroad of the Sophists, must have heard 
us talking. At any rate, when we knocked at the door, and 
he opened and saw us, he grumbled : They are Sophists — 
he is not at home ; and instantly gave the door a hearty bang 
with both his hands. Again we knocked, and he answered 
without opening : Did you not hear me say that he was not 
at home, fellows ? But, my friend, I said, we are not Soph- 
ists, and we are not come to see Callias ; fear not, for we want 
to see Protagoras ; and I must request you to announce us. 
At last, after a good deal of difficulty, the man was persuaded 
to open the door. 

When we entered, we found Protagoras taking a walk in the 
portico ; 14 and next to him, on one side, were walking Callias 
the son of Hipponicus, and Paralus 15 the son of Pericles, who, 

14 The better Athenian houses were built around an inner open court sur- 
rounded by a kind of portico. 

15 Paralus (par'a-lus) ; Pericles (per'i-klez) ; Charmides (kar'mi-dez) ; 
Glaucon (glau'kon) ; Xanthippus (zan-tip'pus) ; Philippides (fl-lip'pi-dez) ; 
Philomelus (ffl'o-me'lus) ; Antimcerus (an'ti-me'rus) ; Mende (men'de). 
These Greeks, who are all doubtless historical personages, are of no impor- 
tance in this dialogue except to show the class of persons whom the Sophists 
gathered about them. Most of them are known to have belonged to wealthy 
aristocratic families. 



PROTAGORAS 75 

by the mother's side, is his half-brother, and Charmides the 
son of Glaucon. On the other side of him were Xanthippus 
the other son of Pericles, Philippides the son of Philo- 
melus ; also Antimoerus of Mende, who of all the dis- 
ciples of Protagoras is the most famous, and intends to make 
sophistry his profession. A train of listeners followed him, of 
whom the greater part appeared to be foreigners, who ac- 
companied Protagoras out of the various cities through which 
he journeyed. Now he, like Orpheus, 16 attracted them by his 
voice, and they followed the attraction. I should mention 
also that there were some Athenians in the company. Noth- 
ing delighted me more than the precision of their movements : 
they never got into his way at all, but when he and those who 
were with him turned back, then the band of listeners divided 
into two parts on either side ; he was always in front, and 
they wheeled round and took their places behind him in per- 
fect order. 

After him, as Homer says, 17 " I lifted up my eyes and saw " 
Hippias the Elean sitting in the opposite portico on a chair 
of state, and around him were seated on benches Eryximachus 18 
the son of Acumenus, and Phaedrus 19 the Myrrhinusian, and 
Andron M the son of Androtion, and there were strangers 
whom he had brought with him from his native city of Elis, 
and some others : they appeared to be asking Hippias certain 
physical and astronomical questions, and he, ex cathedra, 21 
was determining their several questions to them and discours- 
ing of them. 

Also, " my eyes beheld Tantalus" ; for Prodicus the Caen 
was at Athens : he had been put into a room which, in the 
days of Hipponicus, was a storehouse ; but as the house was 
full, Callias had cleared this out and made the room into a 

16 The mythical musician and poet, celebrated especially for his lyre play- 
ing, which so enchanted even the trees and rocks that they followed him. 

17 By this and the following quotation from Homer's Odyssey, Socrates 
wittily represents himself as like Odysseus, wandering through the lower 
world, and seeing one after another, the celebrated personages there. 

ls Eryximachus (er'yx-im'a-kus) and Acumenus (a-ku'me-nus) were both 
learned physicians. Both are mentioned in Phaedrus, 268, and the former in 
Symposium, 176, and following. 

19 See the dialogue Phaedrus, note 1 ; he is a speaker in the Symposium. 
Myrrhinus (myr'ri-nus) : a deme of Attica, 

30 Andron (an'dron) ; Androtion (an-dro'shi-on). 

21 Ex cathedra (kath'e-dra) : Literally, from the chair ; figuratively, with 
authc rity. Probably both meanings were intended here. 



76 PLATO THE TEACHER 

guest-chamber. Now Prodicus was still in bed, wrapped up 
in sheepskins and bedclothes, of which there seemed to be a 
great heap ; and there were sitting by him on the couches 
near, Pausanias of the deme of Cerameis, 22 and with Pausanias 
was a youth quite young, who is certainly remarkable for his 
good looks, and, if I am not mistaken, is also of a fair and gentle 
nature. I think that I heard him called Agathon, 23 and my 
suspicion is that he is the beloved of Pausanias. There was 
this youth and also there were the two Adeimantuses, 24 one 
the son of Cepis, and the other of Leucolophides, and some 
others. I was very anxious to hear what Prodicus was saying, 
for he seemed to me to be an extraordinarily wise and divine 

, man ; but I was not able to get into the inner circle, 
and his fine deep voice made an echo in the room which 
rendered his words inaudible. 

No sooner had we entered than there followed us Alcibiades 
the beautiful, as you say, and I believe you ; and also Critias 
the son of Callaeschrus. 25 

On entering we stopped a little, in order to look about us, 
and then walked up to Protagoras, and I said : Protagoras, 
my friend Hippocrates and I have come to see you. 

Do you wish, he said, to speak with me alone, or in the 
presence of others ? 

That is as you please, I said : you shall determine when you 
have heard the object of our visit. 

And what is that ? he said. 

I must explain, I said, that my friend Hippocrates is a na- 
tive Athenian ; he is the son of Apollodorus, and of a great 
and prosperous house, and he is himself in natural ability quite 
a match for those of his own age. I believe that he aspires to 
political eminence; and this he thinks that conversation with 
you is most likely to procure for him : now it is for you to de- 
cide whether you would wish to speak to him of these matters 
alone or in company. 

Thank you, Socrates, for your consideration of me. For 
certainly a stranger finding his way into great cities, and per- 
suading the flower of the youth in them to leave the company 

22 Pausanias (paw-sa'm-us) : speaker in Symposium. Cerameis (ser'a-mis). 

23 See Symposium, note I. 

24 Adeimantus (ad'i-man'tus) ; Cepis (se'pis) ; Leucolophides (lu'ko-lofi- 
dez). 

26 Callaeschrus (kal-les'krus). 



PROTAGORAS 77 

of their other kinsmen or acquaintance, and live with him, un- 
der the idea that they will be improved by his conversation, 
ought to be very cautious ; great jealousies are occasioned by 
his proceedings, and he is the subject of many enmities and 
conspiracies. I maintain the art of the Sophist to be of an- 
cient date ; but that in ancient times the professors of the art, 
fearing this odium, veiled and disguised themselver under va- 
rious names: some under that of poets, as Homer, Hesiod, and 
Simonides 26 ; some as hierophants 27 and prophets, as Orpheus 
and Musseus ; ^ and some, as I observe, even under the name 
of gymnastic masters, like Iccus 29 of Tarentum, or the more 
recently celebrated Herodicus, now of Selymbria and former- 
ly of Megara, *° who is a first-rate Sophist. Your own Aga- 
thocles 31 pretended to be a musician, but was really an emi- 
nent Sophist ; also Pythocleides ' & the Cean ; and there were 
many others ; and all of them, as I was saying, adopted these 
arts as veils or disguises because they were afraid of the envy 
of the multitude. But that is not my way, for I do not 
believe that they effected their purpose, which was to 
deceive the government, who were not blinded by them; and 
as to the people, they have no understanding, and only repeat 
what their rulers are pleased to tell them. Now to run away, 
and to be caught in running away, is the very height of folly, 
and also greatly increases the exasperation of mankind ; for 
they regard him who runs away as a rogue, in addition to any 
other objections w T hich they have to him ; and therefore I 
take an entirely opposite course, and acknowledge myself to 
be a Sophist and instructor of mankind ; such an open ac- 

26 For Homer and Hesiod see Apology, notes 39 and 53. Simonides (si- 
mon'i-dez, 556-467 B.C.), of Ceos: a celebrated Greek lyric poet. 

27 Priests who taught to initiates the mysteries and duties of certain secret 
religious ceremonies. 

28 See Apology, notes 51 and 52. Orpheus was said to have taught the 
doctrine of immortality and to have been the first to use divination and rites 
for expiation from sin. To Musasus was attributed a collection of oracles, 
hymns, and chants of dedication and purification. 

29 Iccus [(fk'kus) of Tarentum (ta-ren'tum), a Greek town in southern 
Italy] : a philosopher and celebrated gymnast. He won the prize in the 
national games. He taught that gymnastic training produced temperance. 

30 Herodicus (he-rod'I-kus) : a Thracian physician, one of the first to in- 
sist upon the importance of exercise for health. Selymbria (se-lym'brf-a) : a 
town of Thrace on the Propon is. Megara (meg'a-ra) : a city of Greece 
about twenty miles wst of Athens. 

31 Agathocles (a-gath'o-klez). 

32 Pythocleides (pyth'o-kll'dGz). 



7$ PLATO THE TEACHER 

knowledgment appears to me to be a better sort of caution 
than concealment. Nor do I neglect other precautions, and 
therefore I hope, as I may say, by the favor of Heaven that 
no harm will come of the acknowledgment that I am a Soph- 
ist. And I have been now many years in the profession — 
for all my years when added up are many — and there is no 
one here.present of whom I might not be the father. Where- 
fore I should much prefer conversing with you, if you do not 
object, in the presence of the company. 

As I suspected that he would like to have a little display 
and glory in the presence of Prodicus and Hippias, and would 
gladly show us to them in the light of his admirers, I said : 
But why should we not summon Prodicus and Hippias and 
their friends to hear us? 

Very good, he said. 

Suppose, said Callias, that we hold a council in which you 
may sit and discuss. This was determined, and great delight 
was felt at the prospect of hearing wise men talk ; we ourselves 
all took the chairs and benches, and arranged them by Hippias, 
where the other benches had been already placed. Mean- 
while Callias and Alcibiades got up Prodicus and brought in 
him and his companions. 

When we were all seated, Protagoras said: Now that the 
company are assembled, Socrates, tell me about the young 

£ man of whom you were just now speaking. 

I replied : I will begin again at the same point, Pro- 
tagoras, and tell you once more the purport of my visit : this 
is my friend Hippocrates, who is desirous of making your ac- 
quaintance ; he wants to know what will happen to him if he 
associates with you. That is all I have to say. 

Protagoras answered : Young man, if you associate with 
me, on the very first day you will return home a better man 
than you came, and better on the second day than on the 
first, and better every day than you were on the day before. 

When I heard this, I said : Protagoras, I do not at all 
wonder at hearing you say this ; even at your age, and with 
all your wisdom, if any one were to teach you what you did 
not know before, you would become better no doubt : but 
please to answer in a different way ; I will explain how by an 
example. Let me suppose that Hippocrates, instead of de- 
siring your acquaintance, wished to become acquainted with 



PROTAGORAS 79 

the young man Zeuxippus of Heraclea, 33 who has newly come 
to Athens, and he were to go to him as he has gone to you, 
and were to hear him say, as he has heard you say, that every 
day he would grow and become better if he associated with 
him : and then suppose that he were to ask him, " In what 
would he be better, and in what would he grow ? ' ' Zeuxip- 
pus would answer, "In painting." And suppose that he 
went to Orthagoras the Theban, 34 and heard him say the same, 
and asked him, "In what would he become better day by 
day?" he would reply, "In flute-playing." Now I want 
you to make the same sort of answer to this young man and 
to me, who am asking questions on his account. When you 
say that on the first day on which he associates with you he 
will return home a better man, and on every day will grow in 
like manner — in what, Protagoras, will he be better? and 
about what? 

When Protagoras heard me say this, he replied : You ask 
questions fairly, and I like to answer a question which is fairly 
put. If Hippocrates comes to me he will not experience the 
sort of drudgery with which other Sophists are in the habit of 
insulting their pupils ; who, when they have just escaped from 
the arts, are taken and driven back into them by these teach- 
ers, and made to learn calculation, and astronomy, and geom- 
etry, and music (he gave a look at Hippias as he said this) ; 
but if he comes to me, he will learn that which he comes to 
learn. And this is prudence in affairs private as well as pub- 
lic ; he will learn to order his own house in the best manner, 
and he will be best able to speak and act in the affairs of the 
State. 

Do I understand you, I said ; and is your meaning that 
you teach the art of politics, and that you promise to g 
make men good citizens ? 

That, Socrates, is exactly the profession which I make. 

Then, I said, you do indeed possess a noble art, if there is no 
mistake about this ; for I will freely confess to you, Protagoras, 
that I have a doubt whether this art is capable of being taught, 
and yet I know not how to disbelieve your assertion. And I 

93 Zeuxippus (ziiks-ip'pus) or Zeuxis (zuks'is) ( 400 B.C.) : a celebrated 

Greek painter, a native of Heraclea (her'a-kle'a) , a town in southern Italy. 

34 Orthagoras (6r-thag'o-ras) ; Thebes (thebz) : a city of Greece in Bceo- 
tia, about thirty-five miles northwest of Athens. The Thebans were cele- 
brated flute players. 



80 PLATO THE TEACHER 

ought to tell you why I am of opinion that this art cannot be 
taught or communicated by man to man. I say that the 
Athenians are an understanding people, as indeed they are es- 
teemed by the other Hellenes. Now I observe that when we 
are met together in the Assembly, 35 and the matter in hand re- 
lates to building, the builders are summoned as advisers ; when 
the question is one of ship-building, then the ship-builders ; 
and the like of other arts which they think capable of being 
taught and learned. And if some person offers to give them 
advice who is not supposed by them to have any skill in the 
art, even though he be good-looking, and rich, and noble, 
they don't listen to him, but laugh at him, and hoot him, 
until either he is clamored down and retires of himself; or if 
he persists, he is dragged away or put out by the constables at 
the command of the prytanes. 36 This is their way of behaving 
about the arts which have professors. When, however, the 
question is an affair of state, then everybody is free to have a 
say — carpenter, tinker, cobbler, sailor, passenger ; rich and 
poor, high and low — any one who likes gets up, and no one 
reproaches him, as in the former case, with not having learned, 
and having no teacher, and yet giving advice ; evidently be- 
cause they are under the impression that this sort of knowledge 
cannot be taught. And not only is this true of the state, but 
of individuals ; the best and wisest of our citizens are unable 
to impart their political wisdom to others : as, for example, 
Pericles, 37 the father of these young men, who gave them 
excellent instruction in all that could be learned from 
masters, in his own department of politics taught them 
nothing ; nor did he give them teachers, but they were al- 
lowed to wander at their own free-will, in a sort of hope that 
they would light upon virtue of their own accord. Or take 
another example : There was Cleinias, the younger brother of 
our friend Alcibiades, of whom this very same Pericles was 
the guardian ; and he being in fact under the apprehension 
that Cleinias would be corrupted by Alcibiades, took him 

35 At Athens, the formal assembly of all the citizens which exercised cer- 
tain legislative and judiciary functions, and had, with the senate, power of 
decision in all matters affecting the supreme interests of the State. See 
Apology, note 29. 

31 Presidents, or those who presided over the senate and assembly at 
Athens. See Apology, note 29. 

37 Pericles (495-429 B.C.) : the greatest of Athenian statesmen, distin- 
guished also as an orator and great general. 



PROTAGORAS 8l 

away, and placed him in the house of Ariphron to be educated, 
but before six months had elapsed, Ariphron sent him back, 
not knowing what to do with him. And I could mention 
numberless other instances of persons who were good them- 
selves, and never yet made any one else good, whether friend 
or stranger. Now I, Protagoras, when I reflect on all this, 
am inclined to think that virtue cannot be taught. But then 
again, when I listen to your words, I am disposed to waver; 
and I believe that there must be something in what you say, 
because I know that you have great experience, and learning, 
and invention. And I wish that you would, if possible, show 
me a little more clearly that virtue can be taught. Will you 
be so good ? 

That I will, Socrates, and gladly. But what would you 
like ? Shall I, as an elder, speak to you as younger men in 
an apologue or myth, or shall I argue the question ? 

To this several of the company answered that he should 
choose for himself. 

Well, then, he said, I think that the myth will be more in- 
teresting. 

Once upon a time there were gods only, and no mortal 
creatures. But when the time came that these also should be 
created, the gods fashioned them out of earth and fire and 
various mixtures of both elements in the inward parts of the 
earth ; and when they were about to bring them into the light 
of day, they ordered Prometheus and Epimetheus 38 to equip 
them, and to distribute to them severally their proper quali- 
ties. Epimetheus said to Prometheus: "Let me distribute, 
and do you inspect." This was agreed, and Epimetheus 
made the distribution. There were some to whom he gave 
strength without swiftness, or again swiftness without strength; 
some he armed, and others he left unarmed ; and devised for 
the latter some other means of preservation, making some 
large, and having their size as a protection, and others 
small, whose nature was to fly in the air or burrow in 
the ground ; this was to be their way of escape. Thus did he 
compensate them with the view of preventing any race from 

3S Prometheus (pro-me'thus), Epimetheus (ep'i-me'thus) : ancient divini- 
ties and brothers. The characters of the two are indicated by their names. 
Prometheus signifies forethought, Epimetheus, afterthought. See Longfel- 
low's Masque of Pandora ; Shelley's Prometheus Unbound ; Mrs. Brown- 
ing's Prometheus Bound. 

6 



82 PLATO THE TEACHER 

becoming extinct. And when he had provided against their 
destruction by one another, he contrived also a means of pro- 
tecting them against the seasons of heaven ; clothing them 
with close hair and thick skins sufficient to defend them 
against the winter cold and summer heat, and for a natural 
bed of their own when they wanted to rest ; also he furnished 
them with hoofs and hair and hard and callous skins under 
their feet. Then he gave them varieties of food, — to some 
herbs of the soil, to others fruits of trees, and to others roots, 
and to some again he gave other animals as food. And some 
he made to have few young ones, while those who were their 
prey were very prolific ; and in this way the race was pre- 
served. Thus did Epimetheus, who, not being very wise, 
forgot that he had distributed among the brute animals all the 
qualities that he had to give, — and when he came to man, 
who was still unprovided, he was terribly perplexed. Now 
while he was in this perplexity, Prometheus came to inspect 
the distribution, and he found -that the other animals were 
suitably furnished, but that man alone was naked and shoe- 
less, and had neither bed nor arms of defense. The appointed 
hour was approaching in which man was to go forth into the 
light of day ; and Prometheus, not knowing how he could 
devise his salvation, stole the mechanical arts of Hephaestus 59 
and Athene, 40 and fire with them (they could neither have 
been acquired nor used without fire), and gave them to man. 
Thus man had the wisdom necessary to the support of life, but 
political wisdom he had not ; for that was in the keeping of 
Zeus, and the power of Prometheus did not extend to entering 
into the castle of heaven, in which Zeus 41 dwelt, who more- 
over had terrible sentinels ; but he did enter by stealth into 
the common workshop of Athene and Hephaestus, in which 
they used to pursue their favorite arts, and took away Hephaes- 
tus' art of working by fire, and also the art of Athene, and 
gave them to man. And in this way man was supplied with 
the means of life. But Prometheus is said to have been after - 

39 Hephaestus (he-fes'tus) : the god of fire and of the arts in which fire is 
used, corresponding to the Roman Vulcan. 

40 Athene (a-the'ne) : one of the chief divinities of Grecian mythology, 
often called the goddess of wisdom, corresponding to the Roman Minerva. 
To her was attributed the invention of many arts, especially those proper to 
women, like spinning and weaving. 

41 Zeus (zus) : the chief divinity of Grecian mythology, corresponding to 
the Roman Jupiter. 



PROTAGORAS 83 

wards prosecuted for theft, owing to the blunder of Epime- 
theus. 

Now man, having a share of the divine attributes, was at 
first the only one of the animals who had any gods, because 
he alone was of their kindred ; and he would raise altars 
and images of them. He was not long in inventing 
language and names ; and he also constructed houses and 
clothes and shoes and beds, and drew sustenance from the 
earth. Thus provided, mankind at first lived dispersed, and 
there were no cities. But the consequence was that they were 
destroyed by the wild beasts, for they were utterly weak in 
comparison of them, and their art was only sufficient to pro- 
vide them with the means of life, and would not enable them 
to carry on war against the animals : food they had, but not 
as yet any art of government, of which the art of war is a part. 
After awhile the desire of self-preservation gathered them into 
cities ; but when they were gathered together, having no art 
of government, they evil intreated one another, and were 
again in process of dispersion and destruction. Zeus feared 
that the race would be exterminated, and so he sent Hermes 43 
to them, bearing reverence and justice to be the ordering 
principles of cities and the bonds of friendship and concilia- 
tion. Hermes asked Zeus how he should impart justice and 
reverence among men : should he distribute them as the arts 
are distributed ; that is to say to a favored few only, — for one 
skilled individual has enough of medicine, or of any other art, 
for many unskilled ones ? Shall this be the manner in which 
I distribute justice and reverence among men, or shall I give 
them to all ? To all, said Zeus ; I should like them all to 
have a share ; for cities cannot exist, if a few only share in the 
virtues, as in the arts. And further, make a law by my order, 
that he who has no part in reverence and justice shall be put 
to death as a plague of the State. 

And this is the reason, Socrates, why the Athenians and 
mankind in general, when the question relates to carpentering 
or any other mechanical art, allow but a few to share in their 
deliberations : and when any one else interferes, then, as you 
say, they object, if he be not of the favored few, and that, as 
I say, is very natural. But when they come to deliberate 

42 Hermes (her'mez) : messenger of the gods, corresponding to the Roman 
Mercurv. 



84 PLATO THE TEACHER 

about political virtue, which proceeds only by way of justice 
and wisdom, they are patient enough of any man who speaks 
of them, as is also natural, because they think that 
every man ought to share in this sort of virtue, and that 
states could not exist if this were otherwise. I have ex- 
plained to you, Socrates, the reason of this phenomenon. 

And that you may not suppose yourself to be deceived in 
thinking that all men regard every man as having a share of 
justice and every other political virtue, let me give you a 
further proof, which is this. In other cases, as you are aware, 
if a man says that he is a good flute-player, or skilful in any 
other art in which he has no skill, people either laugh at him 
or are angry with him, and his relations think that he is mad 
and go and admonish him ; but when honesty is in question, 
or some other political virtue, even if they know that he is 
dishonest, yet, if the man comes publicly forward and tells 
the truth about his dishonesty, in this case they deem that to 
be madness which in the other case was held by them to be 
good sense. They say that men ought to profess honesty 
whether they are honest or not, and that a man is mad who 
does not make such a profession. Their notion is, that a 
man must have some degree of honesty ; and that if he has 
none at all he ought not to be in the world. 

I have been showing that they are right in admitting every 
man as a counsellor about this sort of virtue, as they are of 
opinion that every man is a partaker of it. And I will now 
endeavor further to show that they regard this virtue, not as 
given by nature, or growing spontaneously, but as capable of 
being learned and acquired by study. For injustice is pun- 
ished, whereas no one would instruct, or rebuke, or be angry at 
those whose calamities they suppose to come to them either by 
nature or chance; they do not try to alter them, they do but 
pity them. Who would be so foolish as to chastise or instruct 
the ugly, or the diminutive, or the feeble ? And for this 
reason ; they know, I imagine, that this sort of good and evil 
comes to them by nature and chance ; whereas if a man is 
wanting in those good qualities which come to men from 
study and exercise and teaching, and has only the contrary 
evil qualities, men are angry with him, and punish him and 
reprove hhn. And one of those evil qualities is impiety and 
injustice, and they may be described generally as the oppo- 



PROTAGORAS 85 

site of political virtue. When this is the case, any man will 
be angry with another, and reprimand him, — clearly under 
the impression that by study and learning the virtue in 
which he is deficient may be acquired. For if you will 
think, Socrates, of the effect which punishment has on evil- 
doers, you will see at once that in the opinion of mankind 
virtue may be acquired \ for no one punishes the evil-doer 
under the notion, or for the reason, that he has done wrong, 
— only the unreasonable fury of a beast acts in that way. 
But he who desires to inflict rational punishment does not 
retaliate for a past wrong, for that which is done cannot be 
undone, but he has regard to the future, and is desirous that 
the man who is punished, and he who sees him punished, 
may be deterred from doing wrong again. And he implies 
that virtue is capable of being taught ; as he undoubtedly 
punishes for the sake of prevention. This is the notion of 
all who retaliate upon others either privately or publicly. 
And the Athenians, too, like other men, retaliate on those 
whom they regard as evil-doers ; and this argues them to be 
of the number of those who think that virtue may be acquired 
and taught. Thus far, Socrates, I have shown you clearly 
enough, if I am not mistaken, that your countrymen are 
right in admitting the tinker and the cobbler to advise about 
politics, and also that they deem virtue to be capable of 
being taught and acquired. 

There yet remains one difficulty which has been raised by 
you about the sons of good men. What is the reason why 
good men teach their sons the knowledge which is gained 
from teachers, and make them wise in that, but do nothing 
towards improving them in the virtues which distinguish 
themselves ? And here, Socrates, I will leave the apologue 
and take up the argument. Please to consider : Is there or 
is there not some one quality in which all. the citizens must 
be partakers, if there is to be a city at all? In the answer to 
this question is contained the only solution of your difficulty ; 
there is no other. For if there be any such quality, and this 
quality or unity is not the art of the carpenter, or the 
smith, or the potter, but justice and temperance and 
holiness, and, in a word, manly virtue — if this is the quality 
of which all men must be partakers, and which is the very 
condition of their learning or doing anything else, and if he 



86 PLATO THE TEACHER 

who is wanting in this, whether he be a child only or a 
grown-up man or woman, must be taught and punished, until 
by punishment he becomes better, and he who rebels against 
instruction and punishment is either exiled or condemned to 
death under the idea that he is incurable — if, I say, this be 
true, and nevertheless good men have their sons taught other 
things and not this, do consider how extraordinary would be 
their conduct. For we have shown that they think virtue 
capable of being taught and inculcated both in private and 
public ; and yet, notwithstanding this, they teach their sons 
lesser matters, ignorance of which does not involve the pun- 
ishment of death : but those things, the ignorance of which 
may cause death and exile to those who have no knowledge 
or training — aye, and confiscation as well as death, and, in a 
word, may be the ruin of families — those things, I say, they 
are supposed not to teach them, not to take the utmost care 
that they should learn. That is not likely, Socrates. 

Education and admonition commence in the first years of 
childhood, and last to the very end of life. Mother and nurse 
and father and tutor are quarreling about the improvement of 
the child as soon as ever he is able to understand them : he 
cannot say or do anything without their setting forth to him 
that this is just and that is unjust ; this is honorable, that is 
dishonorable ; this is holy, that is unholy ; do this and abstain 
from that. And if he obeys, well and good ; if not, he is 
straightened by threats and blows, like a piece of warped wood. 
At a later stage they send him to teachers, and enjoin them 
to see to his manners even more than to his reading and 
music ; 43 and the teachers do as they are desired. And when 
the boy has learned his letters and is beginning to understand 
what is written, as before he understood only what was spoken, 
they put into his hands the works of great poets, which he reads 

, at school ; in these are contained many admonitions, and 
many tales, and praises, and encomia of ancient famous 
men, which he is required to learn by heart, in order that he 
may imitate or emulate them and desire to become like them. 
Then, again, the teachers of the lyre take similar care that 
their young disciple is temperate and gets into no mischief; 
and when they have taught him the use of the lyre, they intro- 
duce him to the poems of other excellent poets, who are the 

43 See Republic II. , 376, and note 17. 



PROTAGORAS 87 

lyric poets ; and these they set to music, and make their har- 
monies and rhythms quite familiar to the children, in order 
that they may learn to be more gentle, and harmonious, and 
rhythmical, and so more fitted for speech and action ; for the 
life of man in every part has need of harmony and rhythm. 
Then they send them to the master of gymnastic, 44 in order that 
their bodies may better minister to the virtuous mind, and that 
the weakness of their bodies may not force them to play the 
coward in war or on any other occasion. This is what is done 
by those who have the means, and those who have the means 
are the rich : their children begin education soonest and leave 
off latest. When they have done with masters, the State again 
compels them to learn the laws, and live after the pattern 
which they furnish, and not after their own fancies ; and just 
as in learning to write, the writing-master first draws lines with 
a stylus for the use of the young beginner, and gives him the 
tablet and makes him follow the lines, so the city draws the 
laws, which were the invention of good lawgivers who were of 
old time ; these are given to the young man, in order to guide 
him in his conduct whether as ruler or ruled ; and he who 
transgresses them is to be corrected, or, in other words, called 
to account, which is a term used not only in your country, but 
also in many others. Now when there is all this care about 
virtue private and public, why, Socrates, do you still wonder 
and doubt whether virtue can be taught ? Cease to wonder, 
for the opposite would be far more surprising. 

But why then do the sons of good fathers often turn out ill ? 
Let me explain that, — which is far from being wonderful, if, as 
I have been saying, the very existence of the State implies that 
virtue is not any man's private possession. If this be true 
— and nothing can be truer — then I will ask you to im- 
agine, as an illustration, some other pursuit or branch of knowl- 
edge which may be assumed equally to be the condition of the 
existence of a State. Suppose that there could be no State un- 
less we were all flute-players, as far as each had the capacity, 
and everybody was freely teaching everybody the art, both in 
private and public, and reproving the bad player as freely and 
openly as every man now teaches justice and the laws, not con- 
cealing them as he would conceal the other arts, but imparting 
them — for all of us have a mutual interest in the justice and 

*« See Republic III., 403, and following. 



88 PLATO THE TEACHER 

virtue of one another, and this is the reason why every one 
is ready to teach justice and the laws ; suppose, I say, that 
there were the same readiness and liberality among us in teach- 
ing one another flute-playing, do you imagine, Socrates, that 
the sons of good flute-players would be more likely to be good 
than the sons of bad ones? I think not. Would not their ^cns 
grow up to be distinguished or undistinguished according lo 
their own natural capacities as flute-players, and the son of a 
good player would often turn out to be a bad one, and the son 
of a bad player to be a good one, and all flnte-players would be 
good enough in comparison of those who were ignorant and un- 
acquainted with the art of flute-playing? In like manner I 
would have you consider that he who appears to you to be the 
worst of those who have been brought up in laws and human- 
ities, would appear to be a just man and a master of justice if 
he were to be compared with men who had no education, or 
courts of justice, or laws, or any restraints upon them which 
compelled them to practice virtue — with the savages, for ex- 
ample, whom the poet Pherecrates 45 exhibited on the stage at 
the last year's Lengean festival. 46 If you were living among 
men such as the man-haters in his Chorus, 47 you would be only 
too glad to meet with Eurybates and Phrynondas, 48 and you 
would sorrowfully desire the rascality of this part of the world. 
And you, Socrates, are discontented, and why ? Because all 
men are teachers of virtue, each one according to his ability, 
and you say that there is no teacher. You might as well ask, 
Who teaches Greek ? For of that too there will not be 
any teachers found. Or you might ask, Who is to teach 
the sons of our artisans this same art which they have learned 
of their fathers ? He and his fellow-workmen have taught them 
to the best of their ability, — but who will carry them further 

45 Pherecrates (fe-rek'ra-tez, 5th century B.C.): an Athenian writer of 
comedy. 

4n The Lenaea (le-ne'a) or Feast of Vats, was one of a series of religious 
festivals celebrated in Athens in honor of Dionysus, god of wine. After a 
public banquet the citizens went to the theatre, where tragedies and comedies 
were presented. 

47 The chorus was originally a number of persons who sang and danced 
at religious festivals. The drama was developed out of the chorus of the 
festivals in honor of Dionysus. Even after actors were introduced the 
chorus was retained as an important element of the drama, though its place 
became gradually limited and subordinate. 

4S Eurybates (u-ryb'a-tez) and Phrynondas (frf-non'das) : " Notorious 
villains." — Jowett. 



PROTAGORAS 89 

in their arts? And you would certainly have a difficulty, 
Socrates, in finding a teacher of them ; but there would be no 
difficulty in finding a teacher of those who are wholly ignorant. 
And this is true of virtue or of anything ; and if a man is better 
able than we are to promote virtue ever so little, that is as 
much as we can expect. A teacher of this sort I believe my- 
self to be, and above all other men to have the knowledge 
which makes a man noble and good ; and I give my pupils 
their money's-worth, and even more, as they themselves con- 
fess. And therefore I have introduced the following mode of 
payment : When a man has been my pupil, if he likes he 
pays my price, but there is no compulsion ; and if he does 
not like, he has only to go into a temple and take an oath of 
the value of the instructions, and he pays no more than he 
declares to be their value. 

Such is my apologue, Socrates, and such is the argument by 
which I endeavor to show that virtue may be taught, and that 
this is the opinion of the Athenians. And I have also at- 
tempted to show that you are not to wonder at good fathers 
having bad sons, or at good sons having bad fathers, as may be 
seen in the sons of Polycleitus, who are of the same age as our 
friends Paralus and Xanthippus, and who are very inferior to 
their father ; and this is true of many other artists. But I 
ought not to say the same as yet of Paralus and Xanthippus 
themselves, for they are young and there is still hope of them. 

Protagoras ended, and in my ear — 

" So charming left his voice, that I the while 

Thought him still speaking ; still stood fixed to hear." 

At length when I saw that he had really finished, I gradually 
recovered consciousness, and looking at Hippocrates, I said to 
him : O son of Apollodorus, how deeply grateful I am to you 
for having brought me hither ; I would not have missed the 
speech of Protagoras for a great deal. For I used to imagine 
that no human care could make men good ; but I know better 
now. Yet I have still one very small difficulty which I am 
sure that Protagoras will easily explain, as he has already 
explained so much. For if a man were to go and consult 3 2 9 = 
Pericles or any of our great speakers about these matters, 4 

he might perhaps hear as fine a discourse ; but then if any one 
has a question to ask of any of them, like books, they can 



90 PLATO THE TEACHER 

neither answer nor ask ; and if any one challenges the least 
particular of their speech, they go ringing on in a long ha- 
rangue, like brazen pots, which when they are struck continue 
to sound unless some one puts his hand upon them ; whereas 
our friend Protagoras can not only make a good speech, as he 
has already shown, but when he is asked a question he can 
answer briefly; and when he asks he will wait and hear the 
answer; and this is a very rare gift. Now I, Protagoras, have 
a little question that I want to ask of you, and if you will only 
answer me that, I shall be quite satisfied. You were saying 
that virtue can be taught ; that I will take upon your authority, 
and there is no one to whom I am more ready to trust. But 
I marvel at one thing about which I should like to have my 
mind set at rest. You were speaking of Zeus sending justice 
and reverence to men ; and several times while you were speak- 
ing, justice and temperance and holiness, and all these quali- 
ties, were described by you as if together they made up virtue. 
Now I want you to tell me truly whether virtue is one whole, of 
which justice and temperance and holiness are parts ; or whether 
all these are only the names of one and the same thing : that 
is the doubt which still lingers in my mind. 

[Protagoras replies that the qualities which Socrates men- 
tions are not different names for one and the same thing, but 
are parts of a whole, just as the features are parts of a 
face, each entirely different from all the others and hav- 
ing its own function. Socrates proceeds by a cross-exam- 
ination of Protagoras to test the truth of this theory. First he 
shows that if the parts of virtue are unlike, if, for example, 
justice is not of the nature of holiness, nor holiness of the 
nature of justice, then justice is unholy. Protagoras cannot 
agree to this. He admits that justice bears a resemblance to 
holiness, but denies that they are identical. He prefers to say 
simply that they are different. The most unlike things, he 
claims, can be shown to be alike from some point of view. 

Socrates continues his questioning and draws Protagoras into 
making statements which contradict his own theory that the 
virtues are many and unlike. Protagoras asserts at one time 
that folly is opposed to wisdom, and at another time that folly 
is opposed to temperance ; but he has also been led to affirm 
that everything has one opposite and only one. It becomes 



PROTAGORAS 91 

clear that he must renounce one of these statements or admit 
that wisdom and temperance are the same. • 

Having obtained the reluctant consent of Protagoras to this 
and reminding him that justice and holiness have been shown 
to be nearly the same, Socrates begins a third attack which 
Protagoras foresees must lead him to the admission that temper- 
ance and justice are one and the same. To evade this conclu- 
sion, Protagoras takes refuge in a long speech, which sounds 
well but is not much to the point.] 

When he had given this answer, the company cheered him. 
And I said : Protagoras, I have a wretched memory, and 
when any one makes a long speech to me I never remember 
what he is talking about. As then, if I had been deaf, and 
you were going to converse with me, you would have had to 
raise your voice ; so now, having such a bad memory, I will 
ask you to cut your answers shorter, if you would take me 
with you. 

What do you mean ? he said : how am I to shorten my 
answers ? shall I make them too short ? 

Certainly not, I said. 

But short enough ? he said. 

Yes, I said. 

Shall I answer what appears to me to be short enough, or 
what appears to you to be short enough? 

I have heard, I said, that you can speak and teach others to 
speak about the same things at such length that words never 
seemed to fail, or with such brevity that no one could use 
fewer of them. Please therefore, if you talk with me, to 
adopt the latter or more compendious method. 

Socrates, he replied, many a battle of words have I fought, 
and if I had followed the method of disputation which my 
adversaries desired, as you want me to do, I should have been 
no better than another, and the name of Protagoras would 
have been nowhere. 

I saw that he was not satisfied with his previous answers, 
and that he would not play the part of answerer any more if 
he could help ; and I considered that there was no call upon 
me to continue the conversation ; so I said : Protagoras, I 
don't wish to force the conversation upon you if you had 
rather not, but when you are willing to argue with me in such 



92 PLATO THE TEACHER 

a way that I can follow you, then I will argue with you. Now 
you, as is said of you by others and as you say of yourself, are 
able to have discussions in shorter forms of speech as well as 
in longer, for you are a master of wisdom ; but I cannot man- 
age these long speeches: I only wish that I could. You, on 
the other hand, who are capable of either, ought to speak 
shorter as I beg you, and then we might converse. But I see 
that you are disinclined, and as I have an engagement which 
will prevent my staying to hear you at length (for I have to 
be in another place), I will depart ; although I should have 
liked to have heard you. 

Thus I spoke, and was rising from my seat, when Callias 
seized me by the hand, and in his left hand caught hold of 
this old cloak of mine. He said : We cannot let you go, 
Socrates, for if you leave us there will be an end of our dis- 
cussions : I must therefore beg you to remain, as there is 
nothing in the world that I should like better than to hear 
you and Protagoras discourse. Do not deny the company 
this pleasure. 

Now I had got up, and was in the act of departure. Son 
of Hipponicus, I replied, I have always admired, and do now 
heartily applaud and love your philosophical spirit, and I 
would gladly comply with your request, if I could. But the 
truth is that I cannot. And what you ask is as great an 
33 impossibility to me, as if you bade me run a race with 
Crison of Himera 49 when in his prime, or with some one of 
the long or day course runners. 50 To that I should reply, that 
I humbly make the same request to my own legs ; and they 
can't comply. And therefore if you want to see Crison and 
me in the same stadium, 51 you must bid him slacken his speed 
to mine, for I cannot run quickly, and he can run slowly. 
And in like manner if you want to hear me and Protagoras 
discoursing, you must ask him to shorten his answers, and 
keep to the point, as he did at first ; if not, how can 
there be any discussion ? For discussion is one thing, and 

49 Crison (krl'son) ; Himera (him'e-ra) : a Greek city on the north coast of 
Sicily. 

50 It is interesting to note in this connection that in the revived Olympian 
Games which took place at Athens in the summer of 1896, while American, 
German, and other foreign athletes won most of the prizes, a Greek peasant 
won the long race from Marathon to Athens, a distance of over twenty 
miles. 

61 Stadium (sta'di-um) : Greek name for the foot-race course. 



PROTAGORAS 93 

making an oration is quite another, according to my way of 
thinking. 

But you see, Socrates, said Callias, that Protagoras may 
fairly claim to speak in his own way, just as you claim to 
speak in yours. 

Here Alcibiades interposed, and said : That, Callias, is not 
a fair statement of the case. For our friend Socrates admits 
that he cannot make a speech — in this he yields the palm to 
Protagoras; but I should be greatly surprised if he yielded to 
any living man in the power of holding and apprehending an 
argument. Now if Protagoras will make a similar admission, 
and confess that he is inferior to Socrates in argumentative 
skill, that is enough for Socrates ; but if he claims a superior- 
ity in argument as well, let him ask and answer — not, when a 
question is asked, having recourse to shifts and evasions, and 
instead of answering, making a speech at such length that 
most of his hearers forget the question at issue (not that Soc- 
rates is likely to forget — I will be bound for that, although he 
may pretend in fun that he has a bad memory). And Socrates 
appears to me to be more in the right than Protagoras ; that 
is my opinion, and every man ought to say what he thinks. 

When Alcibiades had done speaking, some one — Critias, I 
believe — went on to say : O Prodicus and Hippias, Callias ap- 
pears to me to be a partisan of Protagoras. And this led Al- 
cibiades, who loves opposition, to take the other side. But 
we should not be partisans either of Socrates or Protagoras ; 
let us rather unite in entreating both of them not to break up 
the discussion. 

Prodicus added : That, Critias, seems to me to be well 
said, for those who are present at such discussions ought to 
be impartial hearers of both the speakers ; remembering, 
however, that impartiality is not the same as equality, 
for both sides should be impartially heard, and yet an equal 
meed should not be assigned to both of them ; but to the 
wiser a higher meed should be given, and a lower to the less 
wise. And I as well as Critias would beg you, Protagoras and 
Socrates, to grant our request, which is, that you will argue 
with one another and not wrangle; for friends argue with 
friends out of good-will, but only adversaries and enemies 
wrangle. And then our meeting will be delightful; for in 
this way you, who are the speakers, will be most likely to win 



94 PLATO THE TEACHER 

esteem, and not praise only, among us who are your audience ; 
for esteem is a sincere conviction of the hearers' souls, but 
praise is often an insincere expression of men uttering words 
contrary to their conviction. And thus we who are the hear- 
ers will be gratified and not pleased ; for gratification is of 
the mind when receiving wisdom and knowledge, but pleasure 
is of the body when eating or experiencing some other bodily 
delight. Thus spoke Prodicus, and many of the company 
applauded his words. 

Hippias the sage spoke next. He said : All of you who 
are here present I reckon to be kinsmen and friends and fellow- 
citizens, by nature and not by law ; for by nature like is akin 
to like, whereas law is the tyrant of mankind, and often com- 
pels us to do many things which are against nature. How 
great would be the disgrace then, if we, who know the nature 
of things, and are the wisest of the Hellenes, and as such are 
met together in this city, which is the metropolis of wisdom, 
and in the greatest and most glorious house of this city, should 
have nothing to show worthy of this height of dignity, but 
should only quarrel with one another like the meanest of man- 
kind. I do pray and advise you, Protagoras, and you, Socra- 
tes, to agree upon a compromise. Let us be your peacemak- 
ers. And do not you, Socrates, aim at this precise and ex- 
treme brevity in discourse, if Protagoras objects, but 
338= loosen and let go the reins of speech, that your words 
may be grander and become you better. Neither do you, 
Protagoras, go forth on the gale with every sail set out of sight 
of land into an ocean of words, but let there be a mean ob- 
served by both of you. Do as I say. And let me also sug- 
gest and suppose further, that you choose an arbiter or over- 
seer or president ; he will keep watch over your words and 
reduce them to their proper length. 

This proposal was received by the company with universal 
approval ; and Callias said that he would not let me off, and 
that I was to choose an arbiter. But I said that to choose an 
umpire of discourse would be unseemly; for if the person 
chosen was inferior, then the inferior or worse ought not to 
preside over the better ; or if he was equal, neither would that 
be well ; for he who is our equal will do as we do, and what 
will be the use of choosing him? And if you say "Let us 
have a better then," to that I answer that you cannot have 



PROTAGORAS 95 

any one who is wiser than Protagoras. And if you choose 
another who is not really better, and whom you only say is 
better, to put another over him as though he were an inferior 
person would be an unworthy reflection on him ; not that, as 
far as I am concerned, any reflection is of much consequence 
to me. Let me tell you then what I will do in order that the 
conversation and discussion may go on as you desire. If Pro- 
tagoras is not disposed to answer, let him ask and I will an- 
swer ; and I will endeavor to show at the same time how, as 
I maintain, he ought to answer : and when I have answered 
as many questions as he likes to ask, let him in like manner 
answer ; and if he seems to be not very ready at answering 
the exact questions, you and I will unite in entreating him, 
as you entreated me, not to spoil the discussion. And this 
will require no special arbiter : you shall all of you be 
arbiters. 

This was generally approved, and Protagoras, though very 
much against his will, was obliged to agree that he would ask 
questions ; and when he had put a sufficient number of them, 
that he would answer in his turn those which he was asked in 
short replies. 

[Protagoras proposes to base his questions on a certain pas- 
sage from the poet Simonides, relating to virtue. The ensuing 
discussion which forms a long digression, some scholars 
claim to be a satire on the hypercritical methods of in- ^f?Z 
terpretation employed by the Sophists. In the course of 
the discussion however, Socrates gives expression to his doctrine 
that knowledge is virtue, as follows :] 

Simonides was not so ignorant as to say that he praised 
those who did no evil voluntarily, as though there were some 
who did evil voluntarily. For no wise man, as I believe, 
will allow that any human being errs voluntarily, or volun- 
tarily does evil and dishonorable actions ; but they are very 
well aware that all who do evil and dishonorable things do 
them against their will. 

[The doctrine that a man cannot knowingly do wrong is 
fundamental with Socrates and is brought out more fully later 
in the dialogue. At present he employs it to interpret the 



g6 PLATO THE TEACHER 

poem under discussion. His explanation of the poem is long 
and elaborate. When he had finished,] 

Hippias said : I think, Socrates, that you have given a very 
good explanation of this poem ; but I have also an excellent 
interpretation of my own which I will expound to you, if you 
will allow me. 

Nay, Hippias, said Alcibiades ; not now, but another time. 
At present we must abide by the compact which was made 
between Socrates and Protagoras, to the effect that as long as 
Protagoras is willing to ask, Socrates should answer ; or that 
if he would rather answer, then that Socrates should ask. 

I said : I wish Protagoras either to ask or answer as he is 
inclined ; but I would rather have done with poems and odes, 
if you do not object, and come back to the question about 
which I was asking you at first, Protagoras, and by your help 
make an end of that. The talk about the poet seems to me 
like a commonplace entertainment to which a vulgar company 
have recourse ; who, because they are not able to converse or 
amuse one another, while they are drinking, with the sound 
of their own voices and conversation by reason of their stu- 
pidity, raise the price of flute-girls in the market, hiring for a 
great sum the voice of a flute instead of their own breath, to 
be the medium of intercourse among them : but where the 
company are real gentlemen and men of education, you will 
see no flute-girls, nor dancing-girls, nor harp-girls ; and they 
have no nonsense or games, but are contented with one an- 
other's conversation, of which their own voices are the me- 
dium, and which they carry on by turns and in an orderly 
manner, even though they are very liberal in their potations. 
And a company like this of ours, and men such as we profess 
to be, do not require the help of another's voice, or of the 
posts whom you cannot interrogate about the meaning of 
what they are saying ; people who cite them declaring, some 
that the poet has one meaning, and others that he has an- 
other ; and there arises a dispute which can never be put to 
the proof. This sort of entertainment they decline, and pre- 
fer to talk with one another, and try one another's 
34 mettle in conversation. And these are the sort of models 
which I desire that you and I should imitate. Leaving the 
poets, and keeping to ourselves, let us try the mettle of one 



PROTAGORAS 97 

another and of the truth in conversation. And if you have a 
mind to ask I am ready to answer ; or if you would rather, do 
you answer, and give me the opportunity of taking up and 
completing our unfinished argument. 

I made these and some similar observations ; but Protagoras 
would not distinctly say which he would do. Thereupon Al- 
cibiades turned to Callias, and said : Do you think, Callias, 
that Protagoras is fair in refusing to say whether he will or 
will not answer ? for I certainly think that he is unfair ; he 
ought either to proceed with the argument, or distinctly to 
refuse to proceed, that we may know his intention ; and 
then Socrates will be able to discourse with some one else, 
and the rest of the company will be free to talk with one 
another. 

I think that Protagoras was really made ashamed by these 
words of Alcibiades, and when the prayers of Callias and the 
company were superadded, he was at last induced to argue, 
and said that I might ask and he would answer. 

So I said: Do not imagine, Protagoras, that I have any 
other interest in asking questions of you but that of clearing 
up my own difficulties. For I think that Homer was very right 
in saying that "When two go together one sees before the 
other," for all men who have a companion are readier in deed, 
word, or thought; but if a man "sees a thing when he is 
alone," he goes about straightway seeking until he finds some 
one to whom he may show his discoveries, and who may con- 
firm him in them. And I would rather hold discourse with 
you than with any one, because I think that no man has a bet- 
ter understanding of most things which a good man may be 
expected to understand, and in particular of virtue. For who 
is there, but you ? — who not only claim to be a good man and 
a gentleman, for many are this, and yet have not the power of 
making others good. Whereas you are not only good your- 
self, but also the cause of goodness in others. Moreover such 
confidence have you in yourself, that although other Sophists 
conceal their profession, you proclaim in the face of Hellas 
that you are a Sophist or teacher of virtue and education, 
and are the first who demanded pay in return. How then 3 iP^ 
can I do otherwise than invite you to the examination of 
these subjects, and ask questions and take advice of you ? In- 
deed, I must. 



98 PLATO THE TEACHER 

[Socrates now returns to the original question — whether the 
virtues are one or many — and wishes Protagoras to state his 
opinion again. Protagoras answers that the virtues are not 
one but many, and that while four of the virtues, justice, 
temperance, holiness, and wisdom, are to some extent sim- 
ilar, the fifth, courage, is very different from the rest. For, 
he claims, a man may be remarkable for his courage, but 
utterly lacking in justice, temperance, wisdom, and holiness. 

Socrates proceeds in the following way to prove that courage 
is one with the other virtues. First, the courageous man is 
the confident man, as Protagoras himself allows. What gives 
confidence to a man, for example, to a horseman or a soldier? 
Clearly in every case, the confidence of a man comes from his 
knowledge of his profession. When a man is confident about 
matters of which he is ignorant, we call him mad. His is not 
true courage. When Protagoras concedes that confidence or 
courage is always derived from knowledge, he contradicts his 
previous assertion that a man may be ignorant and still cou- 
rageous. To be consistent he must admit that courage and 
wisdom are one. He evades the point by complaining that 
Socrates has unfairly attributed to his words meanings that 
he did not intend, and he tries to show how he would make 
a distinction between courage and confidence. 

Socrates abruptly changes his point of attack. Some men, 
he says, live well, and others ill. Those who live pleasantly, 
live well, and those who live in pain, live ill. Protagoras 
agrees. Now Socrates wishes to know whether pleasure is the 
only good and pain the only evil. Protagoras hesitates to make 
such an assumption without qualification. He would rather 
say with most men, that some pleasant things are good and 
some painful things evil. He wishes, however, to inquire into 
the truth of the matter, and Socrates, who is to lead the dis- 
cussion, begins by asking the nature of knowledge (This 
seems to be a digression, but only for the moment) :] 

Now the rest of the world are of opinion that knowledge is 
a principle not of strength, or of rule, or of command ; their 
notion is that a man may have knowledge, and yet that the 
knowledge which is in him may be overmastered by anger, or 
pleasure, or pain, or love, or perhaps fear, — just as if knowledge 
were a slave, and might be dragged about anyhow. Now is 



PROTAGORAS 99 

that your view ? or do you think that knowledge is a noble and 
commanding thing, which cannot be overcome, and will not 
allow a man, if he only knows the difference of good and evil, 
to do anything which is contrary to knowledge, but that wis- 
dom will have strength to help him ? 

[Protagoras holds the latter view, for he believes that wisdom 
and knowledge are the highest of human things. He is not 
inclined to trouble himself about the opinion of the common 
people. Socrates, however, has a purpose in showing how it is 
that mankind in general have come to have a wrong opinion 
of knowledge. The error, he claims, arises from a mistaken 
notion of pleasure and pain, good and evil. That it is im- 
possible for a man who has knowledge of good and evil, to do 
evil, will be clear when we understand the true relations of 
pleasure, pain, good and evil. The common saying that men 
are overcome by pleasure implies that pleasures are sometimes 
evil. Now, are the pleasures of eating and drinking, for ex- 
ample, by which men are said to be overcome, evil simply be- 
cause they are pleasant ? No one would claim this. All will 
agree that they are evil solely on account of their evil conse- 
quences — because they produce disease, pain, poverty and the 
like, in the future. Moreover, disease with its accompanying 
ills, deprives men of many pleasures greater than those of eat- 
ing and drinking. So in all cases when we say men are over- 
come by pleasure, we mean that they are overcome by a lesser 
pleasure. In a similar way, painful things are sometimes 
spoken of as good. Burning, cutting and starving, as em- 
ployed by the physician, though they occasion the greatest 
immediate suffering, are good because they bring afterwards 
health, power, and wealth. Since even pain is good when it 
takes away greater pain or brings pleasure, and since pleasure 
is evil only when it ends in pain or deprives us of greater 
pleasure, we are justified in saying that pleasure is good and 
pain evil. Thus it becomes clear how it is impossible for 
a man knowingly to do evil, for every man wishes to be 
happy and to have as much pleasure and as little pain in life a 
possible.] 

If you weigh pleasures against pleasures, you of course take 
the more and greater ; or if you weigh pains against pains, 



100 PLATO THE TEACHER 

you take the fewer and the less ; or if pleasures against pains, 
then you choose that course of action in which the painful is 
exceeded by the pleasant, whether the distant by the near or 
the near by the distant ; and you avoid that course of action 
in which the pleasant is exceeded by the painful. 

[When we make the many choices in life whereby we en- 
deavor to attain a sum of pleasures greater than the sum of 
pains, what is to be our guide to right choice ? In the physical 
world, objects appear greater when near and smaller when re- 
mote, and we need some standard of measurement in order to 
judge truly of their size. We have seen that the same is true 
in the case of pleasures and pains. Distance affects their ap- 
parent size. We are in danger of being deceived by appear- 
ance, and our only salvation lies in an ability to measure 
pleasures and pains and judge rightly of their true size and re- 
lation.] 

Is not the power of appearance that deceiving art which 
makes us wander up and down and take the things at one 
time of which we repent at another, both in our actions 
and in our choice of things great and small ? But the art of 
measurement is that which would do away with the effect of 
appearances, and, showing the truth, would fain teach the soul 
at last to find rest in the truth, and would thus save our life. 

[Since this sort of measuring is clearly one kind of knowl- 
edge, we see that knowledge is the mighty and ruling principle 
in human life. Ignorance must then be the origin of all evil, 
for no one will knowingly pursue a course of evil which leads 
to pain when he knows the path of good to pleasure. Hippias, 
Prodicus, and Protagoras agree with this conclusion. 

Socrates now returns to re-examine the virtue of courage 
in the light of what has just been said about knowledge. Fear 
is defined as expectation of evil. A man will not voluntarily 
pursue what he fears, for no one will voluntarily pursue what 
he thinks to be evil. Ignorance causes a man to judge that to 
be evil which is not evil. The cowardly man is he who 
through ignorance fears that which is really not evil. For ex- 
ample, the coward refuses to go to war because he forms a 
wrong estimate of what is good, honorable, and pleasurable. 



PROTAGORAS IOI 

The courageous man goes to war, because he knows it will 
bring future honor and good ; and for these he is willing to 
bear the present pain. Thus we see courage is knowledge 
and cowardice is ignorance. The five virtues which Protago- 
ras at first held to be different in nature are proven to be one 
— wisdom. 32 Protagoras is reluctant to assent. 

Socrates closes the narration of the dialogue as follows :] 

My only object, I said, in continuing the discussion, has 
been the desire to ascertain the relations of virtue and the es- 
sential nature of virtue ; for if this were clear, I am very 
sure that the other controversy which has been carried 
on at great length by both of us — you affirming and I deny- 
ing that virtue can be taught — would also have become clear. 
The result of our discussion appears to me to be singular. For 
if the argument has a human voice, that voice would be heard 
laughing at us and saying : Protagoras and Socrates, you are 
strange beings ; there are you who were saying that virtue can- 
not be taught, contradicting yourself now in the attempt to 
show that all things are knowledge, including justice, and 
temperance, and courage — which tends to show that virtue 
can certainly be taught ; for if virtue were other than knowl- 
edge, as Protagoras attempted to show, then clearly virtue 
cannot be taught; but if virtue is entirely knowledge, as you, 
Socrates, are seeking to show, then I cannot but suppose that 
virtue is capable of being taught. Protagoras, on the other 
hand, who started by saying that it might be taught, is now 
eager to show that it is anything rather than knowledge ; and 
if this is true, it must be quite incapable of being taught. Now 
I, Protagoras, perceiving this terrible confusion of ideas, have 
a great desire that they should be cleared up. And I should 
like to carry on the discussion until we ascertain what virtue 
is, and whether capable of being taught or not, lest haply 
Epimetheus should trip us up and deceive us in the argument, 
as he forgot to provide for us in the story ; and I prefer 

52 " He (Socrates) defines all the particular virtues in such a way as to 
make them consist in knowledge of some kind, the difference between them 
being determined by the difference of their objects. He is pious who 
knows what is right toward God ; he is just who knows what is right toward 
men ; he is brave who knows how to treat dangers properly ; he is prudent 
and wise who knows how to use what is good and nob'e, and how to avoid 
what is evil In a word, all virtues are referred to wisdom or knowledge, 
which are one and the same." — Zeller's Socrates, Chap. VII. 



102 PLATO THE TEACHER 

your Prometheus to your Epimetheus : of him I make use 
whenever I am busy about these questions in Promethean care 
of my own life. And if you have no objection, as I said at 
first, I should like to have your help in the inquiry. 

Protagoras replied : Socrates, I am not of a base nature, 
and I am the last man in the world to be envious. I cannot 
but applaud your enthusiasm in the conduct of an argument. 
As I have often said, I admire you above all men whom I 
know, certainly above all men of your age; and I believe 
that you will become very eminent in philosophy. Let us 
come back to the subject at some future time ; at present we 
had better turn to something else. 

By all means, I said, if that is your wish ; for I too ought 
long since to have kept the engagement of which I spoke be- 
fore, and only tarried because I could not refuse the request 
of the noble Callias. This finished the conversation, and we 
went our way. 



THE SYMPOSIUM 



INTRODUCTION 

The subject of the Symposium is love. Five set speeches 
are made upon this theme besides that of Alcibiades, which, 
though professedly about Socrates, is also really about love. 
Phasdrus dwells especially upon love as an incentive to cou- 
rageous deeds. Pausanias distinguishes between the heavenly 
and the earthly love. Eryximachus, the physician, seeks to 
show a common principle in the love of the body and the 
love of the mind. Aristophanes, the writer of comedy, 
under the guise of an extravagant myth, suggests that man 
cannot live in isolation, that love is the necessary mediator 
between men, and that the love of the world is a type of the 
higher love. Agathon, as becomes the master of tragedy, 
makes a noble poem in eloquent praise of love the divine. 
The earthly love is repeatedly discussed in these speeches 
with a frankness which seems to our ears very gross. Each 
of the speeches, however, makes some contribution to the 
theme, which Plato considers of value. Socrates pretends to 
have been instructed as to the sober truth about love by a 
wise woman, Diotima. In a word, he believes that love is a 
principle which ranges all the way from animal desire to the 
hunger and thirst after wisdom, and that in the highest as 
well as in the lowest form of love, the soul longs to beget 
the likeness of itself in others. True love is not love of the 
beautiful for itself or for oneself alone, but it is love of the 
" birth in beauty " in others. In such fashion does Plato 
realize the idea of love for God and for man. 

105 



106 PLATO THE TEACHER 

But the Symposium is not simply a series of arguments. 
It is perhaps more evidently than any other of Plato's writ- 
ings, a dramatic portrayal of .the theme and of the varied 
views of men about the theme. The five speeches preceding 
that of Socrates are doubtless to be regarded as dramatic in 
this sense. Besides this, many incidents of the story illus- 
trate the theme. In a variety of ways it is suggested that 
Socrates is so wholly a lover of truth that the things of this 
world are nothing to him. He stands in the snow without 
feeling it. He conducts himself in battle without fear. He 
drinks and is not made drunk. He is assailed with tempta- 
tion to vice, but is not really tempted. Above all he passes 
at times (two instances are mentioned in the dialogue) into 
an ecstatic state where the search of his soul after truth makes 
him for hours completely oblivious to all earthly things. The 
best illustration of the nature and power of true love is given 
in the speech of Alcibiades. 1 Here is shown in the most per- 
fect way that strong and genuine love of wisdom and holiness 
is, inevitably, also strong and genuine desire and power to 
allure others toward wisdom and holiness. 

A word of warning should be given. As Jowett says, 
" if it be true that there are more things in the Symposium 
than any commentator has dreamed of, it is also true that 
many things have been imagined which are not really to be 
found there." Do not pigeon-hole the Symposium after one 
reading. It is " full of divine and golden images," with 
which a life-time is not too long to make full acquaintance. 

1 See General Introduction, page xxx. 



THE SYMPOSIUM 

PERSONS OF THE DIALOGUE. 1 

Apollodorus, who repeats to his Pausanias. 

Companion the dialogue which Eryximachus. 

he had heard from Aristodemus, Aristophanes. 

and had already once narrated Agathon. 

to Glancon. Socrates. 

Ph^drus. Alcibiades. 
A Troop of Revelers. 

Scene : — The House of Agathon. 

I believe that I am prepared with an answer. For the day 
before yesterday I was coming from my own home at Phal- 
erum 2 to the city, and one of my acquaintance, who 
had caught a sight of the back of me at a distance, Steph. 
in merry mood commanded me to halt : Apollo- l7 
dorus, he cried, O thou man of Phalerum, halt ! So I did as 
I was bid ; and then he said, I was looking for you, Apollo- 
dorus, only just now, that I might hear about the discourses 
in praise of love, which were delivered by Socrates, Alcibi- 
ades, and others, at Agathon's supper. Phoenix the son of 
Philip told another person, who told me of them, and he said 
that you knew ; but he was himself very indistinct, and I wish 

1 Apollodorus (a-pol'lo-dS'rus); friend and disciple of Socrates, and present 
at his death. See Phaedo, 59 and 117. 

Phsedrus : see the dialogue Phaedrus. 

Pausanias : see Protagoras, 315 and note 22. 

Eryximachus: a physician. See Protagoras, 315 and note 18 ; Phaedrus, 
268. 

Aristophanes : comic poet. See Apology, note 5. 

Agathon (ag'a-thon, 400 B.C.) : an Athenian tragic poet, called the " fair 

Agathon " on account of his extreme beauty. See Protagoras, 315. 

Alcibiades : see Protagoras, note 1. 

8 Phalerum (fa-le'rum) : one of the harbors of Athens. 

107 






108 PLATO THE TEACHER 

that you would give me an account of them. Who but you 
should be the reporter of the words of your friend ? And first 
tell me, he said, were you present at this meeting ? 

Your informant, Glaucon, I said, must have been very in- 
distinct indeed, if you imagine that the occasion was recent, 
or that I could have been present. 

Why, yes, he replied, that was my impression. 

But how is that possible? I said. For Agathon has not 
been in Athens for many years (are you aware of that?), and 
my acquaintance with Socrates, of whose every action and 
word I now make a daily study, is not as yet of three 
years' standing. I used to be running about the world, 
thinking that I was doing something, and would have done 
anything rather than be a philosopher : I was almost as miser- 
able as you are now. 

Well, he said, cease from jesting, and tell me when the 
meeting occurred. 

In our boyhood, I replied, when Agathon won the prize 
with his first tragedy, 3 on the day after that on which he and 
his chorus offered the sacrifice of victory. 

That is a long while ago, he said ; and who told you — did 
Socrates ? 

No indeed, I replied, but the same person who told Phoe- 
nix ; he was a little fellow, who never wore any shoes, Aris- 
todemus, of the deme of Cydathenaeum. 4 He had been at 
this feast ; and I think that there was no one in those days 
who was a more devoted admirer of Socrates. Moreover, I 
asked Socrates about the truth of some parts of his narrative, 
and he confirmed them. Then, said Glaucon, let us have the 
tale over again ; is not the road to Athens made for conversa- 
tion ? And so we walked, and talked of the discourses on 
love ; and therefore, as I said at first, I am prepared with an 
answer, and will have another rehearsal, if you like. For I 
love to speak or to hear others speak of philosophy ; there is 

3 The Greek drama had its origin in one of the chief religious festivals 
of the people — the Dionysia (dl'o-ny'sf-a). It was originally a chorus, sung 
in honor of the god Dionysus (di'o-ny'sus). Later, actors were introduced, 
but the chorus was retained. The drama became an important part of the 
festival. Three days were given to the public presentation of new dramas. 
The State offered prizes to the contesting authors. The first prize was a 
crown, publicly presented. This was the highest distinction that could be 
conferred on a dramatic author at Athens. 

♦Aristodemus (a-rfs'to-de'mus). Cydathenaeum (sid-ath-e-ne'um). 



THE SYMPOSIUM 109 

the greatest pleasure in that, to say nothing of the profit. But 
when I hear any other discourses, especially those of you rich 
men and traders, they are irksome to me ; and I pity you who 
are my companions, because you always think that you are 
hard at work when really you are idling. And I dare say 
that you pity me in return, whom you regard as an unfortu- 
nate wight, which I perhaps am. But I certainly know of you 
what you only think of me — there is the difference. 

Companion. I see, Apollodorus, that you are just the same, 
— always speaking evil of yourself, and of others ; and I do 
believe that you pity all mankind, beginning with yourself 
and including everybody else with the exception of Socrates, 
true in this to your old name, which, however deserved, I 
know not how you acquired, of Apollodorus the madman ; 
for your humor is always to be out of humor with yourself 
and with everybody except Socrates. 

Apollodorus. Yes, friend, and I am proved to be mad, and 
out of my wits, because I have these notions of myself and 
you ; no other evidence is required. 

Com. I have no wish to dispute about that, Apollodorus ; but 
let me renew my request that you would repeat the tale of love. 

Apoll. Well, the tale of love was on this wise: But per- 
haps I had better begin at the beginning, and endeavor 74 
to repeat to you the words as Aristodemus gave them. 

He said that he met Socrates fresh from the bath and san- 
daled ; and as the sight of the sandals was unusual, he asked 
him whither he was going that he was so fine. 

To a banquet at Agathon's, he replied, whom I refused yes- 
terday, fearing the crowd that there would be at his sacrifice, 
but promising that I would come to-day instead ; and I have 
put on my finery because he is a fine creature. What say you 
to going with me unbidden ? 

Yes, I replied, I will go with you, if you like. 

Follow then, he said, and let us demolish the proverb that — 

" To the feasts of lesser men the good unbidden go ; " 
instead of which our proverb will run that — 
" To the feasts of the good unbidden go the 



and this alteration may be supported by the authority of 
Homer, who not only demolishes but literally outrages this 



110 PLATO THE TEACHER 

proverb. For after picturing Agamemnon 5 as the most valiant 
of men, he makes Menelaus, who is but a soft-hearted warrior, 
come of his own accord to the sacrificial feast of Agamemnon, 
the worse to the better. 

I am afraid, Socrates, said Aristodemus, that I shall rather 
be the inferior person, who, like Menelaus in Homer, — 

"To the feasts of the wise unbidden goes." 

But I shall say that I was bidden of you, and then you will 
have to make the excuse. 

"Two going together," 

he replied, in Homeric fashion, may invent an excuse by the way. 

This was the style of their conversation as they went along; 
and a comical thing happened — Socrates stayed behind in a 
fit of abstraction, and desired Aristodemus, who was waiting, 
to go on before him. When he reached the house of Agathon 
he found the doors wide open, and a servant coming out met 
him, and led him at once into the banqueting-hall in which the 
guests were reclining, for the banquet was about to begin. 
Welcome, Aristodemus, said Agathon ; you are just in time to 
sup with us ; if you come on any other errand put that off, 
and make one of us, as I was looking for you yesterday and 
meant to have asked you, if I could have found you. But 
what have you done with Socrates ? 

I turned round and saw that Socrates was missing, and I 
had to explain that he had been with me a moment before, 
and that I came by his invitation. 

You were quite right in coming, said Agathon ; and where 
is he himself? 

He was behind me just now, as I entered, he said, and 
175 I cannot think what has become of him. 

Go and look for him, boy, said Agathon, and bring him in; 
do you, Aristodemus, meanwhile take the place by Eryximachus. 

Then he said that the attendant assisted him to wash, and 
that he lay down, and presently another servant came in and 
said that our friend Socrates had retired into the portico of the 
neighboring house. " There he is fixed, and when I call to 
him," said the servant, " he will not stir." 

How strange, said Agathon ; then you must call him again, 
and keep calling him. 

See Apology, note 21. 



THE SYMPOSIUM III 

Let him alone, said my informant ; he has just a habit of 
stopping anywhere and losing himself without any reason ; 
don't disturb him, as I believe he will soon appear. 

Well, if you say that, I will not interfere with him, said 
Agathon. My domestics, who on these occasions become my 
masters, shall entertain us as their guests. " Put on the table 
whatever you like," he said to the servants, " as usual when 
there is no one to give you orders, which I never do. Imagine 
that you are our hosts, and that I and the company are your 
guests; and treat us well, and then we shall commend you." 
After this they supped ; and during the meal Agathon several 
times expressed a wish to send for Socrates, but Aristodemus 
would not allow him ; and when the feast was half over — for 
the fit, as usual, was not of long duration — Socrates entered. 
Agathon, who was reclining alone at the end of the table, 
begged that he would take the place next to him ; that I may 
touch the sage, he said, and get some of that wisdom which 
came into your mind in the portico. For I am certain that you 
would not have left until you had found what you were seeking. 

How I wish, said Socrates, taking his place as he was de- 
sired, that wisdom could be infused through the medium of 
touch, out of the full into the empty man, like the water 
which the wool sucks out of the full vessel into an empty one ; 
in that case how much I should prize sitting by you ! For you 
would have filled me full of gifts of wisdom, plenteous and 
fair, in comparison of which my own is of a very mean and 
questionable sort, no better than a dream ; but yours is bright 
and only beginning, and was manifested forth in all the 
splendor of youth the day before yesterday, in the presence of 
more than thirty thousand Hellenes. 6 

You are insolent, said Agathon ; and you and I will have to 
settle hereafter who bears off the palm of wisdom, and of this 
Dionysus 7 shall be the judge ; but at present you are better 
occupied with the banquet. 

Socrates took his place on the couch ; and when the 
meal was ended, and the libations offered, and after a hymn 
had been sung to the God, and there had been the usual cere- 
monies, — as they were about to commence drinking, Pausanias 
reminded them that they had had a bout yesterday, from which 

6 Greeks. See Protagoras, note n. 

7 The god whose festival the city was then celebrating. 



112 PLATO THE TEACHER 

he and most of them were still suffering, and they ought to be 
allowed to recover, and not go on drinking to-day. He would 
therefore ask, How the drinking could be made easiest ? 

I entirely agree, said Aristophanes, that we should, by all 
means, get off the drinking, having been myself one of those 
who were yesterday drowned in drink. 

I think that you are right, said Eryximachus the son of 
Acumenus ; but I should like to hear one other person speak. 
What are the inclinations of our host? 

I am not able to drink, said Agathon. 

Then, said Eryximachus, the weak heads like myself, Aristo- 
demus, Phaedrus, and others who never can drink, are fortunate 
in finding that the stronger ones are not in a drinking mood. 
(I do not include Socrates, who is an exceptional being, and 
able either to drink or to abstain.) Well, then, as the company 
seem indisposed to drink much, I may be forgiven for saying, 
as a physician, that drinking is a bad practice, which I never, 
if I can help, follow, and certainly do not recommend to an- 
other, least of all to any one who still feels the effects of 
yesterday's carouse. 

I always follow what you advise, and especially what you 
prescribe as a physician, rejoined Phaedrus the Myrrhinusian, 
and the rest of the company, if they are wise, will do the same. 

All agreed that drinking was not to be the order of the day. 
Then, said Eryximachus, as you are all agreed that drinking 
is to be voluntary, and that there is to be no compulsion, I 
move, in the next place, that the flute girl, who has just made 
her appearance, be told to go away ; she may play to herself, 
or, if she has a mind, to the women who are within. But on 
this day let us have conversation instead; and, if you will 
allow me, I will tell you what sort of conversation. This 
proposal having been accepted, Eryximachus proceeded 
as follows : — 

I will begin, he said, after the manner of Melanippe in 
Euripides 8 , — 

"Not mine the word" 

which I am about to speak, but that of Phaedrus. For he is 
in the habit of complaining that, whereas other gods have 

8 Euripides (u-np'i-dez, 480-406 B.C.): a celebrated Athenian tragic poet. 
Melanippe (meTa-nfp'pe) : a character in a lost play by him. 



THE SYMPOSIUM II3 

poems and hymns made in their honor by the poets, who are 
so many, the great and glorious god, Love, has not a single 
panegyrist or encomiast. Many Sophists also, as for example 
the excellent Prodicus, 9 have descanted in prose on the virtues 
of Heracles 10 and other heroes; and, what is still more extra- 
ordinary, I have met with a philosophical work in which the 
utility of salt has been made the theme of an eloquent dis- 
course; and many other like things have had a like honor 
bestowed upon them. And only to think that there should 
have been an eager interest created about them, and yet that 
to this day, as Phaedrus well and truly says, no one has ever 
dared worthily to hymn Love's praises. This mighty deity 
has been neglected wholly ! Now I want to offer Phaedrus a 
contribution to his feast; nor do I see how the present com- 
pany can, at this moment, do anything better than honor the 
god Love. And if you agree to this, there will be no lack of 
conversation ; for I mean to propose that each of us in turn 
shall make a discourse in honor of Love. Let us have 
the best which he can make; and Phaedrus, who is sitting 
first on the left hand, and is the father of the thought, shall 
begin. 

No one will oppose that, Eryximachus, said Socrates; I cer- 
tainly cannot refuse to speak on the only subject of which I 
profess to have any knowledge, and Agathon and Pausanias 
will surely assent ; and there can be no doubt of Aristophanes, 
who is always in the company of Dionysus 11 and Aphro- 
dite 12 ; nor will any one disagree of those whom I see around 
me. The proposal, as I am aware, may seem hard upon us 
whose place is last; but that does not matter if we hear some 
good speeches first. Let Phaedrus begin the praise of ~ 
Love, and good luck to him. All the company ex- ' ~ 
pressed their assent, and desired him to do as Socrates 
bade him. 

[" Phaedrus began by affirming that Love is a mighty 
god, and wonderful among gods and men, but especially won- 

9 See Protagoras, note 1. 

10 See Euthydemus, note 20. 

11 God of wine — the Roman Bacchus. 

12 Aphrodite (af'ro-di'te): goddess of love and beauty, corresponding to 
the Roman Venus. 

8 



114 PLATO THE TEACHER 

derful in his birth. " He is the oldest of the gods and without 
parentage. As Hesiod says : 

" First Chaos came, and then broad-bosomed Earth, 
The everlasting seat of all that is, 
And Love." 

Parmenides 13 agrees with Hesiod. Love is not only the old- 
est but also the most beneficent of the gods. The greatest 
blessing to any youth is to love and be loved. Love im- 
plants in the youth the sense of honor. The veriest coward 
becomes an inspired hero when the god breathes love into his 
soul. An army of lovers, though a mere handful, would over- 
come the world. For love a man will surrender his life as 
Alcestis 14 did for her husband, and as Achilles 15 did to 
avenge the death of his friend.] 

Now Achilles was quite aware, for he had been told by his 
mother, that he might avoid death and return home, and live 
to a good old age, if he abstained from slaying Hector. Nev- 
ertheless he gave his life to revenge his friend, and dared to 
die, not only on his behalf, but after his death. Wherefore 
the gods honored him even above Alcestis, and sent him to 
the Islands of the Blest. These are my reasons for affirming 
that Love is the eldest and noblest and mightiest of the gods, 
and the chiefest author and giver of happiness and virtue, in 
life and after death. 

This, or something like this, was the speech of Phaedrus ; 
and some other speeches followed which Aristodemus did not 
remember ; the next which he repeated was that of Pausanias. 

[Pausanias said that the speech of Phaedrus had assumed 
that there was only one love, whereas there are really two — 
one a heavenly, the other a common. Pausanias character- 
ized these two kinds of love as follows :] 

Evil is the vulgar lover who loves the body rather than the 
soul, and who is inconstant because he is a lover of the incon- 

13 Parmenides (par-men'i-dez, 520? B.C.): a Greek philosopher and 

poet. 

14 Alcestis (al-ses'tis): the beautiful young wife of Admetus (ad-me'tus), a 
mythical king of Thessaly. She sacrificed her own life to save that of her 
husband when the Fates decreed that he could live only on condition that 
some one die in his stead. 

15 See Apology, note 21. 



THE SYMPOSIUM Il5 

stant ; and therefore when the bloom of youth which he was 
desiring is over, he takes wings and flies away, in spite of all 
his words and promises ; whereas the love of the noble mind, 
which is in union with the unchangeable, is everlasting. 
. . This is that love which is the love of the heavenly 
goddess, and is heavenly, and of great price to individuals 
and cities, making the lover and the beloved alike eager in the 
work of their own improvement. But all other loves are the 
offspring of the common or vulgar goddess. To you, Phae- 
drus, I offer this my encomium of love, which is as good as I 
could make on the sudden. 

When Pausamas came to a pause (this is the balanced way 
in which I have been taught by the wise to speak), Aristode- 
mus said that the turn of Aristophanes was next, but that 
either he had eaten too much, or from some other cause he had 
the hiccough, and was obliged to change with Eryximachus 
the physician, who was reclining on the couch below him. 
Eryximachus, he said, you ought either to stop my hiccough, 
or to speak in my turn until I am better. 

I will do both, said Eryximachus : I will speak in your 
turn, and do you speak in mine ; and while I am speaking let 
me recommend you to hold your breath, and if this fails, then 
to gargle with a little water ; and if the hiccough still con- 
tinues, tickle your nose with something and sneeze ; and if 
you sneeze once or twice, even the most violent hiccough is 
sure to go. In the mean time I will take your turn, and you 
shall take mine. I will do as you prescribe, said Aristophanes, 
and now get on. 

[Eryximachus constructed a myth whose purpose was to 
show that love is the principle of unity and health in body 
and soul and in all nature. He concluded as follows :] 

And that love, especially, which is concerned with the 
good, and which is perfected in company with temperance and 
justice, whether among gods or men, has the greatest power, 
and is the source of all our happiness and harmony and friend- 
ship with the gods which are above us, and with one another. 
I dare say that I have omitted several things which might be 
said in praise of Love, but this was not intentional, and you, 
Aristophanes, may now supply the omission or take some 



Il6 PLATO THE TEACHER 

other line of commendation ; as I perceive that you are cured 

of the hiccough. 

8 Yes, said Aristophanes, who followed, the hiccough 

is gone ; not, however, until I applied the sneezing ; and 

I wonder whether the principle of order in the human 

frame requires this sort of noises and ticklings, for I no sooner 

applied the sneezing than I was cured. 

Eryximachus said : Take care, friend Aristophanes, you are 
beginning with a joke, and I shall have to watch if you talk 
nonsense; and the interruption will be occasioned by your 
own fault. 

You are very right, said Aristophanes, laughing, and I will 
retract what I said ; and do you please not to watch me, as I 
fear that in what I am going to say, instead of making others 
laugh, which is to the manner born of our muse and would be 
all the better, I shall only be laughed at by them. 

[Aristophanes related another myth in which he repre- 
sented that the principle of all human activity is desire to 
complete our deficiencies and attain wholeness and unity of 
life. He concluded as follows :] 

And I believe that if all of us obtained our love, and each 
one had his particular beloved, thus returning to his original 
nature, then our race would be happy. And if this would be 
best of all, that which would be best under present circum- 
stances would be the nearest approach to such a union ; and 
that will be the attainment of a congenial love. Therefore 
we shall do well to praise the god Love, who is the author of 
this gift, and who is also our greatest benefactor, leading us in 
this life back to our own nature, and giving us high hopes for 
the future, that if we are pious, he will restore us to our origi- 
nal state, and heal us and make us happy and blessed. This, 
Eryximachus, is my discourse of love, which, although differ- 
ent from yours, I must beg you to leave unassailed by the 
shafts of your ridicule, in order that each may have his turn ; 
each, or rather either, for Agathon and Socrates are the only 
ones left. 

Indeed, I am not going to attack you, said Eryximachus, 
for I thought your speech charming, and did I not know that 
Agathon and Socrates are masters in the art of love, I should 



THE SYMPOSIUM II7 

be really afraid that they would have nothing to say, after all 
the world of things which have been said already. But, for all 
that, I am not without hopes. 

Socrates said : You did your part well, Eryximachus ; 
but if you were as I am now, or rather as I shall be when Ag- 
athon has spoken, you would, indeed, be in a great strait. 

You want to cast a spell over me, Socrates, said Agathon, 
in the hope that I may be disconcerted, thinking of the antic- 
ipation which the theatre has of my fine speech. 

I should be strangely forgetful, Agathon, replied Socrates, 
of the courage and magnanimity which you showed when 
your own compositions were about to be exhibited, coming 
upon the stage with the actors and facing the whole theatre 
altogether undismayed, if I thought that your nerves could be 
fluttered at a small party of friends. 

Do you think, Socrates, said Agathon, that my head is 
so full of the theatre as not to know how much more for- 
midable to a man of sense a few good judges are than many 
fools ? 

Nay, replied Socrates, I should be very wrong in attribut- 
ing to you, Agathon, that or any other want of refinement. 
And I am quite aware that if you happened to meet with any 
one whom you thought wise, you would care for his opinion 
much more than for that of the many. But then we, having 
been a part of the foolish many in the theatre, cannot be re- 
garded as the select wise ; though I know that if you chanced 
to light upon a really wise man, you would be ashamed of 
disgracing yourself before him, — would you not ? 

Yes, said Agathon. 

But you would not be ashamed of disgracing yourself before 
the many ? 

Here Phaedrus interrupted them, saying: Don't answer 
him, my dear Agathon; for if he can only get a partner with 
whom he can talk, especially a good-looking one, he will no 
longer care about the completion of our plan. Now I love to 
hear him talk ; but just at present I must not forget the enco- 
mium on Love which I ought to receive from him and every 
one. When you and he have paid the tribute to the God, 
then you may talk. 

Very good, Phaedrus, said Agathon ; I see no reason why 
I should not proceed with my speech, as I shall have other 



Il8 PLATO THE TEACHER 

opportunities of conversing with Socrates. Let me say first 
how I ought to speak, and then speak. 

The previous speakers, instead of praising the god Love, or 
unfolding his nature, appear to have congratulated mankind 
on the benefits which he confers upon them. But I 
9 would rather praise the God first, and then speak of his 
gifts ; this is always the right way of praising everything. 
May I express unblamed then, that of all the blessed gods he 
is the blessedest and the best ? And also the fairest, which I 
prove in this way : for, in the first place, Phaedrus, he is the 
youngest, and of his youth he is himself the witness, fleeing 
out of the way of age, which is swift enough surely, swifter 
than most of us like : yet he cannot be overtaken by him ; he 
is not a bird of that feather ; youth and love live and move 
together, — like to like, as the proverb says. There are many 
things which Phaedrus said about Love in which I agree with 
him ; but I cannot agree that he is older than Iapetus 16 and 
Kronos 17 — that is not the truth ; as I maintain, he is the 
youngest of the gods, and youthful ever. The ancient things 
of which Hesiod and Parmenides speak, if they were done at 
all, were done of necessity and not of love; had love been in 
those days, there would have been no chaining or mutilation 
of the gods, or other violence, but peace and sweetness, as 
there is now in heaven, since the rule of Love began. Love 
is young and also tender ; he ought to have a poet like Homer 
to describe his tenderness, as Homer says of Ate, 18 that she is 
a goddess and tender: — 

" Her feet are tender, for she sets her steps, 
Not on the ground but on the heads of men : " 

which is an excellent proof of her tenderness, because she 
walks not upon the hard but upon the soft. Let us adduce a 
similar proof of the tenderness of Love ; for he walks not upon 
the earth, nor yet upon the skulls of men, which are hard 
enough, but in the hearts and souls of men : in them he walks 
and dwells and has his home. Not in every soul without ex- 

16 Iapetus (i-ap'e-tus): an ancient Greek divinity, son of Uranus (Heaven), 
and Gasa (Earth). The Greeks regarded him as the ancestor of the human 
race. 

17 Kronos (krS'nos): brother of Iapetus, and father of Zeus. 

18 Ate(a'te): the goddess of infatuation; also the avenger of unrighteousness. 



THE SYMPOSIUM 119 

ception, for where there is hardness he departs, where there is 
softness there he dwells ; and clinging always with his feet and 
in all manner of ways in the softest of soft places, how can he 
be other than the softest of all things? And he is the , 
youngest as well as the tenderest, and also he is of flex- 
ile form ; for without flexure he could not enfold all things, 
or wind his way into and out of every soul of man without 
being discovered, if he were hard. And a proof of his flex- 
ibility and symmetry of form is his grace, which is univer- 
sally admitted to be in an especial manner the attribute of 
Love ; ungrace and love are always at war with one another. 
The fairness of his complexion is revealed by his habitation 
among the flowers, for he dwells not amid unflowering or fad- 
ing beauties, whether of body or soul or aught else, but in the 
place of flowers and scents, there he dwells and abides. Enough 
of his beauty, — of which, however, there is more to tell. But I 
must now speak of his virtue : his greatest glory is that he can 
neither do nor suffer wrong from any god or any man ; for he 
suffers not by force if he suffers, for force comes not near him, 
neither does he act by force. For all serve him of their own 
free-will, and where there is love as well as obedience, there, 
as the laws which are the lords of the city say, is justice. And 
not only is he just but exceedingly temperate, for Temperance 
is the acknowledged ruler of the pleasures and desires, and no 
pleasure ever masters Love ; he is their master and they are 
his servants ; and if he conquers them he must be temperate 
indeed. As to courage, even the God of War is no match for 
him ; he is the captive and Love is the lord, for love, the 
love of Aphrodite, masters him, as the tale runs; and the 
master is stronger than the servant. And if he conquers the 
bravest of all he must be himself the bravest. Of his courage 
and justice and temperance I have spoken ; but I have yet to 
speak of his wisdom, and I must try to do my best, accord- 
ing to the measure of my ability. For in the first place he is 
a poet (and here, like Eryximachus, I magnify my art), and 
he is also the source of poesy in others, which he could not be 
if he were not himself a poet. And at the touch of him every 
one becomes a poet, even though he had no music in him be- 
fore ; this also is a proof that Love is a good poet and accom- 
plished in all the musical arts ; for no one can give to another 
that which he has not himself, or teach that of which he has 



120 PLATO THE TEACHER 

no knowledge. Who will deny that the creation of the ani- 
mals is his doing ? Are they not all the works of his wisdom, 
born and begotten of him ? And as to the artists, do we 
' not know that he only of them whom love inspires has the 
light of fame? — he whom love touches not walks in darkness. 
The arts of medicine and archery and divination .were dis- 
covered by Apollo, 19 under the guidance of love and desire, so 
that he too is a disciple of Love. Also the melody of the 
Muses, 20 the metallurgy of Hephaestus, 21 the weaving of 
Athene, 22 the empire of Zeus 23 over gods and men, are all 
due to Love, who was the inventor of them. Love set in 
order the empire of the gods, — the love of beauty, as is evi- 
dent, for of deformity there is no love. And formerly, as I 
was saying, dreadful deeds were done among the gods, because 
of the rule of necessity ; but now since the birth of Love, and 
from the love of the beautiful, has sprung every good in 
heaven and earth. Therefore, Phaedrus, I say of Love that he 
is the fairest and best in himself, and the cause of what is 
fairest and best in all other things. And I have a mind to 
say of him in verse that he is the god who — 

" Gives peace on earth and calms the stormy deep, 
Who stills the waves and bids the sufferer sleep." 

He makes men to be of one mind at a banquet such as this, 
fulfilling them with affection and emptying them of disaffec- 
tion. In sacrifices, banquets, dances, he is our lord, — sup- 
plying kindness and banishing unkindness, giving friendship 
and forgiving enmity, the joy of the good, the wonder of the 
wise, the amazement of the gods ; desired by those who have 
no part in him, and precious to those who have the better part 
in him ; parent of delicacy, luxury, desire, fondness, softness, 
grace ; careful of the good, uncareful of the evil. In every 
word, work, wish, fear, — pilot, helper, defender, saviour ; 
glory of gods and men, leader best and brightest : in whose 
footsteps let every man follow, chanting a hymn and joining 

19 One of the greatest and most beneficent of the Greek gods, commonly 
called the god of light. 

20 See Euthydemus, note 12. 

21 See Protagoras, note 39. 

22 See Protagoras, note 40. 

23 See Protagoras, note 41. 



THE SYMPOSIUM 121 

in that fair strain with which Love charms the souls of gods 
and men. Such is the discourse, Phaedrus, half playful, yet 
having a certain measure of seriousness, which, accord- i 
ing to my ability, I dedicate to the God. 

When Agathon had done speaking, Aristodemus said that 
there was a general cheer ; the fair youth was thought to have 
spoken in a manner worthy of himself, and of the God. And 
Socrates, looking at Eryximachus, said : Tell me, son of 
Acumenus, was I not a prophet ? Did I not anticipate that 
Agathon would make a wonderful oration, and that I should 
be in a strait ? 

I think, said Eryximachus, that you were right in the first 
anticipation, but not in the second. 

Why, my dear friend, said Socrates, must not I or any one 
be in a strait who has to speak after such a rich and varied 
discourse as that ? I am especially struck with the beauty of 
the concluding words — who could listen to them without 
amazement ? When I reflected on the immeasurable inferior- 
ity of my own powers, I was ready to run away for shame, if 
there had been any escape. For I was reminded of Gorgias,* 4 
and at the end of his speech I fancied that Agathon was shak- 
ing at me the Gorginian or Gorgonian head of the great master 
of rhetoric, which was simply to turn me and my speech into 
stone, as Homer says, and strike me dumb. And then I per- 
ceived how foolish I had been in consenting to take my turn 
with you in praising love, and saying that I too was a master 
of the art, when I really had no idea of the meaning of the 
word " praise," which appears to be another name for glorifi- 
cation, whether true or false ; in which sense of the term I am 
unable to praise anything. For I in my simplicity imagined 
that the topics of praise should be true ; this was to be the 
foundation, and that out of them the speaker was to choose the 
best and arrange them in the best order. And I felt quite 
proud, and thought that I could speak as well as another, as I 
knew the nature of true praise. Whereas I see now that the 
intention was to attribute to Love every species of greatness and 
glory, whether really belonging to him or not, without regard 

24 See Apology, note 7. Socrates here makes a play on the names Gor- 
gias and Gorgon. The Gorgon was a legendary monster with hair of hiss- 
ing snakes, and whose aspect was so terrible it turned all beholders to stone. 
The Greeks carved the Gorgon's head on their armor, and on walls 
and gates, in the belief that it would terrify and paralyze an enemy. 



122 PLATO THE TEACHER 

to truth or falsehood — that was no matter; for the original 
proposal seems to have been not that you should praise, but 
only that you should appear to praise him. And you attribute 
to Love every imaginable form of praise, and say that " he is all 
this," " the cause of all this " in order that you may ex- 
hibit him as the fairest and best of all : and this of course 
202 

imposes on the unwary, but not on those who know him : 

and a noble and solemn hymn of praise have you rehearsed. 
But as I misunderstood the nature of the praise when I said that 
I would take my turn, I must beg to be absolved from the prom- 
ise which (as Euripides would say) was a promise of the lips 
and not of the mind. Farewell then to such a strain : for that 
is not my way of praising ; no, indeed, I cannot attain to that. 
But if you like to hear the truth about love, I am ready to 
speak in my own manner, though I will not make myself ridic- 
ulous by entering into any rivalry with you. Say then, Phae- 
drus, whether you would like to have the truth about love, 
spoken in any words and in any order which may happen to 
come into my mind at the time. Will that be agreeable to you? 
Aristodemus said that Paehdrus and the company bid him 
take his own course. 

[After his usual manner, Socrates avoided a long set speech 
in the outset. He pretended that he had once met a very 
wise woman by the name of Diotima 25 who had taught him 
the nature of. love. She led Socrates to the view that love 
is not as the former speakers had declared, beautiful or good 
or wise or divine. Love is child of the god Plenty and of Pov- 
erty. Love is a mediator between the divine and human.] 

" Love is a great spirit, and like all that is spiritual he is 
intermediate between the divine and the mortal." "And 
what k the nature of this spiritual power? " I said. " This 
is the power," she said, "which interprets and conveys to 
the gods the prayers and sacrifices of men, and to men 
the commands and rewards of the gods ; and this power 
spans the chasm which divides them, and in this all is bound 
together, and through this the arts of the prophet and the 

25 Diotima (dTo-ti'ma): spoken of below (211) as the stranger of Mantineia 
(man'ti-ni'a). 



THE SYMPOSIUM 1 23 

priest, their sacrifices and mysteries and charms, and all proph- 
ecy and incantation, find their way. For God mingles not 
with man ; and through this power all the intercourse and 
speech of God with man, whether awake or asleep, is carried 
on. The wisdom which understands this is spiritual ; all 
other wisdom, such as that of arts or handicrafts, is mean and 
vulgar." 

[Love is not wise or good or beautiful, but is in passionate 
search for wisdom, goodness and beauty.] 

" The truth of the matter is just this: No god is a philos- 
opher or seeker after wisdom, for he is wise already ; nor does 
any one else who is wise seek after wisdom. Neither 
do the ignorant seek after wisdom. For herein is the 
evil of ignorance, that he who is neither good nor wise 
is nevertheless satisfied : he feels no want, and has therefore no 
desire." "But who then, Diotima," I said, "are the 
lovers of wisdom, if they are neither the wise nor the fool- 
ish? " "A child may answer that question," she replied ; 
" they are those who, like Love, are in a mean between the 
two. For wisdom is a most beautiful thing, and love is of 
the beautiful ; and therefore Love is also a philosopher or 
lover of wisdom, and being a lover of wisdom is in a mean 
between the wise and the ignorant. And this again is a 
quality which Love inherits from his parents ; for his father 
is wealthy and wise, and his mother poor and foolish. Such, 
my dear Socrates, is the nature of the spirit Love. The error 
in your conception of him was very natural, and as I imagine 
from what you say, has arisen out of a confusion of love and 
the beloved — this made you think that love was all beau- 
tiful. For the beloved is the truly beautiful, delicate, and 
perfect and blessed; but the principle of love is of another 
nature, and is such as I have described." 

[But love is not love of the beautiful and good only. Love 
is essentially love of "birth in beauty." "To the mortal 
creature, generation is a sort of eternity and immortality," 
and all true love is essentially love of immortality. Some be- 
get earthly children, but some are more creative in their souls 
than in their bodies. " Such creators are poets and all artists 



124 PLATO THE TEACHER 

who are deserving the name inventor. But the greatest and 
fairest sort of wisdom by far is that which is concerned with 
the ordering of states and families, and which is called tem- 
perance and justice." He who in youth has the seed of these 
implanted in him desires to implant them in others. " When 
he finds a fair and noble and well-nurtured soul . 
he is full of fair speech about virtue and the nature and pur- 
suits of a good man ; and he tries to educate him ; 
and they are bound together by a far nearer tie and have a 
closer friendship than those who beget mortal children, for the 
children who are their common offspring are fairer and more 
immortal."] 

" These are the lesser mysteries of love, into which even 
you, Socrates, may enter ; to the greater and more hidden 
ones which are the crown of these, and to which, if you 
pursue them in a right spirit, they will lead, I know not 
whether you will be able to attain. But I will do my utmost 
to inform you, and do you follow if you can. For he who 
would proceed rightly in this matter should begin in youth to 
turn to beautiful forms ; and first, if his instructor guide him 
rightly, he should learn to love one such form only — out of 
that he should create fair thoughts ; and soon he will himself 
perceive that the beauty of one form is truly related to the 
beauty of another ; and then if beauty in general is his pur- 
suit, how foolish would he be not to recognize that the beauty 
in every form is one and the same ! And when he perceives 
this he will abate his violent love of the one, which he will 
despise and deem a small thing, and will become a lover of 
all beautiful forms ; this will lead him on to consider that the 
beauty of the mind is more honorable than the beauty of the 
outward form. So that if a virtuous soul have but a little 
comeliness, he will be content to love and tend him, and will 
search out and bring to the birth thoughts which may improve 
the young, until his beloved is compelled to contemplate and 
see the beauty of institutions and laws, and understand that 
all is of one kindred, and that personal beauty is only a trifle; 
and after laws and institutions he will lead him on to the 
sciences, that he may see their beauty, being not like a ser- 
vant in love with the beauty of one youth or man or institu- 
tion, himself a slave mean and calculating, but looking at the 



THE SYMPOSIUM 125 

abundance of beauty and drawing towards the sea of beauty, 
and creating and beholding many fair and noble thoughts and 
notions in boundless love of wisdom ; until at length he grows 
and waxes strong, and at last the vision is revealed to him of 
a single science, which is the science of beauty everywhere. 
To this I will proceed ; please to give me your very best at- 
tention. 

" For he who has been instructed thus far in the things of 
love, and who has learned to see the beautiful in due order 
and succession, when he comes toward the end will suddenly 
perceive a nature of wondrous beauty — and this, Socrates, is 

that final cause of all our former toils, which in the 

211 
first place is everlasting — not growing and decaying, or 

waxing and waning ; in the next place not fair in one point 
of view and foul in another, or at one time or in one relation 
or at one place fair, at another time or in another relation or 
at another place foul, as if fair to some and foul to others, or 
in the likeness of a face or hands or any other part of the 
bodily frame, or in any form of speech or knowledge, nor ex- 
isting in any other being; as for example, an animal, whether 
in earth or heaven, but beauty only, absolute, separate, sim- 
ple, and everlasting, which without diminution and without 
increase, or any change, is imparted to the ever-growing and 
perishing beauties of all other things. He who under the in- 
fluence of true love rising upward from these begins to see that 
beauty, is not far from the end. And the true order of going 
or being led by another to the things of love, is to use the 
beauties of earth as steps along which he mounts upwards for 
the sake of that other beauty, going from one to two, and from 
two to all fair forms, and from fair forms to fair actions, and 
from fair actions to fair notions, until from fair notions he ar- 
rives at the notion of absolute beauty, and at last knows what 
the essence of beauty is. This, my dear Socrates," said the 
stranger of Mantineia, "is that life above all others which 
man should live, in the contemplation of beauty absolute ; a 
beauty which if you once beheld, you would see not to be 
after the measure of gold, and garments, and fair boys and 
youths, which when you now behold you are in fond amaze- 
ment, and you and many a one are content to live seeing only 
and conversing with them without meat or drink, if that were 
possible — you only want to be with them and to look at them. 



126 PLATO THE TEACHER 

But what if man had eyes to see the true beauty — the divine 
beauty, I mean, pure and clear and unalloyed, not clogged 
with the pollutions of mortality, and all the colors and vani- 
ties of human life — thither looking, and holding con- 
verse with the true beauty divine and simple, and bring- 
ing into being and educating true creations of virtue and 
not idols only? Do you not see that in that communion 
only, beholding beauty with the eye of the mind, he will be 
enabled to bring forth, not images of beauty, but realities ; for 
he has hold not of an image but of a reality, and bringing 
forth and educating true virtue to become the friend of God 
and be immortal, if mortal man may. Would that be an ig- 
noble life?" 

Such, Phaedrus — and I speak not only to you, but to all men 
— were the words of Diotima ; and I am persuaded of their 
truth. And being persuaded of them, I try to persuade others, 
that in the attainment of this end human nature will not eas- 
ily find a better helper than Love. And therefore, also, I say 
that every man ought to honor him as I myself honor him, 
and walk in his ways, and exhort others to do the same, 
even as I praise the power and spirit of love according to the 
measure of my ability now and ever. 

The words which I have spoken, you, Phaedrus, may call an 
encomium of love, or anything else which you please. 

When Socrates had done speaking, the company applauded, 
and Aristophanes was beginning to say something in answer to 
the allusion which Socrates had made to his own speech, when 
suddenly there was a great knocking at the door of the house, 
as of revelers, and the sound of a flute-girl was heard. Aga- 
thon told the attendants to go and see who were the intruders. 
" If they are friends of ours," he said, "invite them in, but 
if not say that the drinking is over." A little while after- 
wards they heard the voice of Alcibiades resounding in the 
court; he was in a great state of intoxication, and kept roar- 
ing and shouting ' ' Where is Agathon ? Lead me to Agathon, ' ' 
and at length, supported by the flute-girl and some of his 
companions, he found his way to them. "Hail, friends! " 
he said, appearing at the door crowned with a massive garland 
of ivy and wall-flowers, and having his head flowing with rib- 
bons. " Will you have a very drunken man as a companion 
of your revels ? Or shall I crown Agathon, as was my inten- 



THE SYMPOSIUM 127 

tion in coming, and go my way ? For I was unable to come 
yesterday, and therefore I come to-day, carrying on my head 
these ribbons, that taking them from my own head, I may 
crown the head of this fairest and wisest of men, as I may be 
allowed to call him. Will you laugh at me because I am 
drunk ? Yet I know very well that I am speaking the 
truth, although you may laugh. But first tell me whether I 
shall come in on the understanding that I am drunk. Will 
you drink with me or not? " 

The company were vociferous in begging that he would 
take his place among them, and Agathon specially invited 
him. Thereupon he was led in by the people who were with 
him ; and as he was being led he took the crown and ribbons 
from his head, intending to crown Agathon, and had them 
before his eyes ; this prevented him from seeing Socrates, who 
made way for him, and Alcibiades took the vacant place be- 
tween Agathon and Socrates, and in taking the place he em- 
braced Agathon and crowned him. Take off his sandals, said 
Agathon, and let him make a third on the same couch. 

By all means ; but who makes the third partner in our rev- 
els? said Alcibiades, turning round and starting up as he caught 
sight of Socrates. By Heracles, he said, what is this? here is 
Socrates always lying in wait for me, and always, as his way is, 
coining out at all sorts of unsuspected places : and now, what 
have you to say for yourself, and why are you lying here, 
where I perceive that you have contrived to find a place, not 
by a professor or lover of jokes, like Aristophanes, but by the 
fairest of the company ? 

Socrates turned to Agathon and said : I must ask you to 
protect me, Agathon ; for this passion of his has grown quite 
a serious matter. Since I became hi£ admirer I have never 
been allowed to speak to any other lair one, or so much as to 
look at them. If I do he goes wild with envy and jealousy, 
and not only abuses me but can hardly keep his hands off me, 
and at this moment he may do me some harm. Please to see 
to this, and either reconcile me to him, or, if he attempts 
violence, protect me, as I am in bodily fear of his mad and 
passionate attempts. 

There can never be reconciliation between you and me, said 
Alcibiades; but for the present I will defer your chastisement. 
And I must beg you, Agathon, to give me back some of the 



128 PLATO THE TEACHER 

ribbons that I may crown the marvelous head of this universal 
despot, — I would not have him complain of me for crowning 
you, and neglecting him, who in conversation is the conquer- 
or of all mankind ; and this not once only, as you were the 
day before yesterday, but always. Then taking some of the 
ribbons, he crowned Socrates, and again reclined. When he 
had lain down again, he said : You seem, my friends, to be 
sober, which is a thing not to be endured ; you must drink, — 
for that was the agreement which I made with you, — and I 
elect myself master of the feast until you are well drunk. 
Let us have a large goblet, Agathon, or rather, he said, ad- 
dressing the attendant, bring me that wine-cooler. The wine- 
cooler was a vessel holding more than two quarts which 

4 caught his eye, — this he filled and emptied, and bid the 
attendant fill it again for Socrates. Observe, my friends, said 
Alcibiades, that my ingenious device will have no effect on 
Socrates, for he can drink any quantity of wine and not be at 
all nearer being drunk. Socrates drank the cup which the 
attendant filled for him. 

Eryximachus said : What is this, Alcibiades? Are we to 
have neither conversation nor singing over our cups; but 
simply to drink as if we were thirsty ? 

Alcibiades replied : Hail, worthy son of a most wise and 
worthy sire ! 

The same to you, said Eryximachus ; but what shall we do? 

That I leave to you, said Alcibiades. 

"The wise physician skilled our wounds to heal." 

shall prescribe and we will obey. What do you want ? 

Well, Eryximachus said : Before you appeared a resolution 
was agreed to by us that each one in turn should speak a dis- 
course in praise of love, and as good a one as he could : this 
was passed round from left to right ; and as all of us have 
spoken, and you have not spoken but have well drunken, you 
ought to speak, and then impose upon Socrates any task which 
you please, and he on his right hand neighbor, and so on. 

That is good, Eryximachus, said Alcibiades ; and yet the 
comparison of a drunken man's speech with those of sober 
men is hardly fair ; and I should like to know, sweet friend, 
whether you really believe what Socrates was just now saying; 
for I can assure you that the very reverse is the fact, and that 



THE SYMPOSIUM 129 

if I praise any one but himself in his presence, whether God 
or man, he will hardly keep his hands off me. 

For shame, said Socrates. 

By Poseidon, 26 said Alcibiades, there is no use in your deny- 
ing this, for no creature will I praise in your presence. 

Well then take your own course, said Eryximachus, and if 
you like praise Socrates. 

What do you think, Eryximachus ? said Alcibiades ; shall I 
attack him and inflict the punishment in your presence ? 

What are you about? said Socrates; are you going to raise 
a laugh at me ? Is that the meaning of your praise? 

I am going to speak the truth, if you will permit me. 

I not only permit you but exhort you to speak the truth. 

Then I will begin at once, said Alcibiades, and if I say 
anything that is not true, you may interrupt me if you will, 
and say that I speak falsely, though my intention is to speak 
the truth. But you must not wonder if I speak anyhow as 
things come into my mind ; for the fluent and orderly enumer- 
ation of all your wonderful qualities is not a task the accom- 
plishment of which is easy to a man in my condition. 

I shall praise Socrates in a figure which will appear to him 
to be a caricature, and yet I do not mean to laugh at him, but 
only to speak the truth. I say then, that he is exactly 
like the masks of Silenus, 27 which may be seen sitting in 
the statuaries' shops, having pipes and flutes in their mouths ; 
and they are made to open in the middle, and there are im- 
ages of gods inside them. I say also that he is like Marsyas 28 
the satyr. 29 You will not deny, Socrates, that your face is like 
that of a satyr. 30 Aye, and there is a resemblance in other 
points too. For example, you are a bully, — that I am in a 

26 See Euthydemus, note 21. 

27 Silenus (si-le'nus) : the childhood instructor and constant companion 
of Bacchus, god of wine. He is mentioned with others as the inventor of 
the flute, which he often plays. He was a jovial fat old man, fond of 
wine and music, and generally intoxicated ; but he was also regarded as 
an inspired prophet, and a sage who despised the gifts of fortune. " Fig- 
ures of Silenus were used as caskets for precious pieces of sculpture." 
(L. andS.) 

28 See Euthydemus, note 17. 

29 The satyrs were a class of minor divinities — the-companions of Bacchus 
— dwelling in the forest, and fond of sleep, wine, and music. They are 
represented with bristling hair, blunt, up-turned nose, pointed ears, small 
horns, and dressed in the skins of animals. 

30 Though of robust constitution, Socrates is said to have had a remark- 
ably ugly face, with flat nose, thick lips, and prominent eyes. 



130 PLATO THE TEACHER 

position to prove by the evidence of witnesses, if you will not 
confess. And are you not a flute-player ? That you are, and 
a far more wonderful performer than Marsyas. For he indeed 
with instruments charmed the souls of men by the power of 
his breath, as the performers of his music do still : for the 
melodies of Olympus 31 are derived from the teaching of Mar- 
syas, and these, whether they are played by a great master or 
by a miserable flute-girl, have a power which no others have ; 
they alone possess the soul and reveal the wants of those who 
have need of gods and mysteries, 32 because they are inspired. 
But you produce the same effect with the voice only, and do 
not require the flute : that is the difference between you and 
him. When we hear any other speaker, even a very good one, 
his words produce absolutely no effect upon us in comparison, 
whereas the very fragments of you and your words, even at 
second-hand, and however imperfectly repeated, amaze and 
possess the souls of every man, woman, and child who comes 
within hearing of them. And if I were not afraid that you 
would think me drunk, I would have sworn as well as spoken 
to the influence which they have always had and still have 
over me. For my heart leaps within me more than that of 
any Corybantian reveler, 33 and my eyes rain tears when I hear 
them. And I observe that many others are affected in the 
same way. I have heard Pericles 34 and other great orators, 
but though I thought that they spoke well, I never had any 
, similar feeling ; my soul was not stirred by them, nor was 
I angry at the thought of my own slavish state. But this 
Marsyas has often brought me to such a pass, that I have felt 
as if I could hardly endure the life which I am leading (this, 

31 Olympus (o-lym'pus) : a mythical poet and musician, a pupil of Marsyas, 
whose art of flute-playing he perfected. 

32 Secret religious ceremonies of ancient origin employed in the worship 
of certain gods and goddesses. Only those who had been initiated could 
take part in these rites, which consisted of purifications, sacrifices, proces- 
sions, songs, dances, and dramatic spectacles. On account of the secrecy 
maintained, there is much doubt concerning the nature and purpose of the 
mystic rites. The dramatic spectacles were probably scenic representations 
of mythical legends about the god worshipped. Passages in the Greek 
poets seem to indicate that the mysteries were intended to encourage belief 
in a future life, and in reward or punishment there, as merited by the life 
on earth. Certain of the rites were supposed to be a means of purification 
from sin, and reconciliation with the gods. 

33 Those who took part in the wild and furious rites in honor of the god- 
dess Cybele. See Euthyderrms, note 13. 

34 <See Protagoras, note 37. 



THE SYMPOSIUM 131 

Socrates, you admit) ; and I am conscious that if I did not 
shut my ears against him, and fly from the voice of the siren, 35 
he would detain me until I grew old sitting at his feet. For 
he makes me confess that I ought not to live as I do, neglecting 
the wants of my own soul, and busying myself with the con- 
cerns of the Athenians ; therefore I hold my ears and tear 
myself away from him. And he is the only person who ever 
made me ashamed, which you might think not to be in my 
nature, and there is no one else who does the same. For I 
know that I cannot answer him or say that I ought not to do 
as he bids, but when I leave his presence the love of popularity 
gets the better of me. And therefore I run away and fly from 
him, and when I see him I am ashamed of what I have con- 
fessed to him. And many a time I wish that he were dead, 
and yet I know that I should be much more sorry than glad, 
if he were to die : so that I am at my wit's end. 

And this is what I and many others have suffered from the 
flute-playing of this satyr. Yet hear me once more while I 
show you how exact the image is, and how marvelous his 
power. For I am sure that none of you know him ; but I 
know him and will describe him, as I have begun. See you 
how fond he is of the fair? He is always with them and is 
always being smitten by them, and then again he knows noth- 
ing and is ignorant of all things — that is the appearance which 
he puts on. Is he not like a Silenus in this ? Yes, surely : 
that is, his outer mask, which is the carved head of the Silenus ; 
but when he is opened, what temperance there is, as I may say 
to you, O my companions in drink, residing within. Know 
you that beauty and wealth and honor, at which the many 
wonder, are of no account with him, and are utterly despised 
by him : he regards not at all the persons who are gifted with 
them ; mankind are nothing to him ; all his life is spent in 
mocking and flouting at them. But when I opened him, 
and looked within at his serious purpose, I saw in him 2I 7 = 
divine and golden images of such fascinating beauty that 
I was ready to do in a moment whatever Socrates commanded 
(they may have escaped the observation of others, but I saw 
them). 

35 The sirens were maidens living on an island in the Mediterranean Sea. 
By their sweet singing they charmed all who sailed by, and allured them to 
destruction. Whoever heard them, and drew near, never saw wife or home 
again. 



132 PLATO THE TEACHER 

[Alcibiades next gives a long account of how he tried to 
entice Socrates into vice, but without success.] 

All this, as I should explain, happened before he and I went 
on the expedition to Potidaea ; there we messed together, and 
I had the opportunity of observing his extraordinary power of 
sustaining fatigue and going without food when our sup- 
plies were intercepted at any place, as will happen with 
an army. In the faculty of endurance he was superior not 
only to me but to everybody ; there was no one to be com- 
pared to him. Yet at a festival he was the only person who 
had any real powers of enjoyment, and though not willing to 
drink, he could if compelled beat us all at that, and the most 
wonderful thing of all was that no human being had ever seen 
Socrates drunk ; and that, if I am not mistaken, will soon be 
tested. His endurance of cold was also surprising. There was 
a severe frost, for the winter in that region was really tremen- 
dous, and everybody else either remained indoors, or if they 
went out had on no end of clothing, and were well shod, and had 
their feet swathed in felts and fleeces : in the midst of this, 
Socrates, with his bare feet on the ice, and in his ordinary 
dress, marched better than any of the other soldiers who had 
their shoes on, and they looked daggers at him because he 
seemed to despise them. 

I have told you one tale, and now I must tell you another, 
which is worth hearing, of the doings and sufferings of this en- 
during man while he was on the expedition. One morning 
he was thinking about something which he could not resolve ; 
and he would not give up, but continued thinking from early 
dawn until noon — there he stood fixed in thought ; and at noon 
attention was drawn to him, and the rumor ran through the 
wondering crowd that Socrates had been standing and think- 
ing about something ever since the break of day. At last, in 
the evening after supper, some Ionians 36 out of curiosity (I 
should explain that this was not in winter but in summer), 
brought out their mats and slept in the open air that they 
might watch him and see whether he would stand all night. 
There he stood all night as well as all day and the following 
morning ; and with the return of light he offered up a prayer 

36 Ionians : Greeks from Ionia (i-o'nf-a), a region on the west coast of Asia 
Minor. 



THE SYMPOSIUM 133 

to the sun, and went his way. I will also tell, if you please — 
and indeed I am bound to tell — of his courage in battle ; for 
who but he saved my life ? Now this was the engagement in 
which I received the prize of valor : for I was wounded and 
he would not leave me, but he rescued me and my arms; and 
he ought to have received the prize of valor which the generals 
wanted to confer on me partly on account of my rank, and I 
told them so (this Socrates will not impeach or deny), but he 
was more eager than the generals that I and not he should have 
the prize. There was another occasion on which he was very 
noticeable ; this was in the flight of the army after the 
battle of Delium, and I had a better opportunity of see- 
ing him than at Potidaea 37 as I was myself on horseback, and 
therefore comparatively out of danger. He and Laches were 
retreating as the troops were in flight, and I met them and told 
them not to be discouraged, and promised to remain with 
them ; and there you might see him, Aristophanes, as you 
describe, just as he is in the streets of Athens, stalking like a 
pelican, and rolling his eyes, calmly contemplating enemies as 
well as friends, and making very intelligible to anybody, even 
from a distance, that whoever attacks him will be likely to 
meet with a stout resistance ; and in this way he and his com- 
panions escaped — for these are the sort of persons who are 
never touched in war; they only pursue those who are run- 
ning away headlong. I particularly observed how superior he 
was to Laches 38 in presence of mind. Many are the wonders 
of Socrates which I might narrate in his praise ; most of his 
ways might perhaps be paralleled in others, but the most 
astonishing thing of all is his absolute unlikeness to any human 
being that is or ever has been. You may imagine Brasidas 39 
and others to have been like Achilles 40 ; or you may imagine 
Nestor 41 and Antenor 4 * to have been like Pericles; and the 
same may be said of other famous men ; but of this strange 

37 See Apology, note 22. 

38 Laches (la'kez): an Athenian general. A dialogue of Plato bears his 
name. 

39 Brasidas (bras'i-das): a distinguished Spartan general in the Peloponne- 
sian War. He was long honored by annual sacrifices and games. 

40 See Apology, note 21. 

41 Nestor (nes'tor): a legendary Greek hero, distinguished for wisdom, 
justice, and eloquence. He rendered great service to the Greeks during 
the Trojan War, by his prudent and persuasive counsels. 

42 Antenor (an-te'nor): a Trojan prince, who took part in the Trojan War. 



134 PLATO THE TEACHER 

being you will never be able to find any likeness however re- 
mote, either among men who now are or who ever have been, 
except that which I have already suggested of Silenus and the 
satyrs ; and this is an allegory not only of himself, but also of 
his words. For, although I forgot to mention this before, his 
words are ridiculous when you first hear them ; he clothes 
??f " himself in language that is as the skin of the wanton 
satyr — for his talk is of pack-asses and smiths and cobblers 
and curriers, and he is always repeating the same things in the 
same words, so that an ignorant man who did not know him 
might feel disposed to laugh at him ; but he who pierces the 
mask and sees what is within will find that they are the only 
words which have a meaning in them, and also the most 
divine, abounding in fair examples of virtue, and of the largest 
discourse, or rather extending to the whole duty of a good and 
honorable man. 

Agathon arose in order that he might take his place on the 
couch by Socrates, when suddenly a band of revelers en- 
tered, and spoiled the order of the banquet. Some one 
who was going out having left the door open, they had found 
their way in, and made themselves at home ; great confusion 
ensued, and every one was compelled to drink large quantities 
of wine. Aristodemus said that Eryximachus, Phaedrus, and 
others went away — he himself fell asleep, and as the nights 
were long took a good rest : he was awakened towards day- 
break by a crowing of cocks, and when he awoke, the others 
were either asleep, or had gone away ; there remained awake 
only Socrates, Aristophanes, and Agathon, who were drinking 
out of a large goblet which they passed round, and Socrates 
was discoursing to them. Aristodemus did not hear the begin- 
ning of the discourse, and he was only half awake, but the 
chief thing which he remembered, was Socrates insisting to 
the other two that the genius of comedy was the same as that 
of tragedy, and that the writer of tragedy ought to be a writer 
of comedy also. To this they were compelled to assent, being 
sleepy, and not quite understanding his meaning. And first of 
all Aristophanes dropped, and then, when the day was already 
dawning, Agathon. Socrates, when he had put them to sleep, 
rose to depart, Aristodemus, as his manner was, following him. 
At the Lyceum he took a bath and passed the day as usua" ; 
and when evening came he retired to rest at his own home. 



PH/EDRUS 



INTRODUCTION 

This dialogue apparently has two subjects : rhetoric or the 
art of discourse, and love. The two subjects are introduced 
by the reading of a rhetorical discourse by Lysias on love. 
Socrates follows this by another rhetorical discourse on love. 
He then declares himself conscience-stricken for having dis- 
coursed upon the most sacred subject in an artificial way. 
He will redeem himself by setting forth the true nature of 
love. 

Love is, he says, in reality, a divine mania or ecstasy like 
that which moves the poet and prophet, or like that which 
purges the soul of sin. The love ecstasy may be of a baser 
sort leading the soul toward earthly pleasure which corrupts, 
or of a purer sort leading the soul into communion with 
God and to the winning of other souls to the divine life. 

The criticism which Socrates makes upon his own first dis- 
course and that of Lysias leads to a further discussion of 
rhetoric. The professors of rhetoric, Socrates holds, do not 
at all understand the true nature of the art of discourse. That 
art requires a knowledge of the truth, and a knowledge of 
the souls to be spoken to, not only as to their general charac- 
ter, but also as to their individual peculiarities. 

Let us now consider more closely the connection between 
Plato's two subjects, love and discourse. Plato believed in 
the reality of absolute truth ; that absolute truth lies ready 
to be born in every soul ; that the truth may be brought to 

137 



138 PLATO THE TEACHER 

birth in the soul by pure reflection (dialectic); and that 
the chief end of man is in this way to find the truth for him- 
self and then induce others to do likewise. Since these 
things are so, I must not regard the truth and must not re- 
gard other souls with indifferent contemplation. I must love 
the truth with my whole soul, heart, strength and mind ; 
otherwise I shall never by any process find it. 1 must in the 
truest sense love my neighbor as myself, for I must seek to 
bring about in my neighbor the same " birth of beauty " 
which has come to myself. 

Now if 1 am in this sense a lover of truth and a lover of 
men, what sort of discourse shall I employ in speaking to 
men ? Shall I go to those whom I passionately long to see 
born in the beauty of holiness, with a fine -feathered ora- 
tion like that of Lysias ? Shall I go to those whom I see 
wandering blind and helpless for lack of insight into the 
truth, with quibbling disputations which show only that I 
have skill to prove either side of any question ? Shall I go 
to those who intend to teach others by speaking or writing, 
with sciences of how to do these things, whose elaborate and 
arbitrary learning is far from the real spirit of man and far 
from the spirit of truth ? 

If I do any of these things I am traitor to the truth and to 
the souls of men. But if I really love the truth, and love 
to see men born into the truth, I will come to them with 
the purest light I have. I will seek to know not only 
what souls need, but what this soul needs. 1 will not stand 
at a distance. I will not trust to writing. I will face the 
man. I will sit beside him. As Socrates did with Phsedrus, 
I will first hear his say. I will let him praise Lysias, if Lys- 
ias is his present love. 1 will myself praise Lysias so far as 
I truly can. I will join in his enthusiasms so far as they are 
good, — and the enthusiasms of youth have always some- 
thing of good. But when we are together, he and I, in 



INTRODUCTION 139 

close and joyful comradeship, I will ask him to walk with 
me. He has shown me the flash and smoke of Lysias' fire- 
works. Let us go into the clear where we can see the stars. 
I believe that Plato says in this dialogue that the greatest 
thing in the world is such love as Socrates had for truth and 
for Phaedrus, and that the highest expression of this love is 
in such free face-to-face talk as they had together that day 
on the banks of the llissus. 



PH/EDRUS 

PERSONS OF THE DIALOGUE. 
Socrates. Ph.edrus. 1 

Scene : — Under a plane-tree, by the banks of the Ilissus. 2 

Socrates. My dear Phaedrus, whence come you, and 
whither are you going ? 227 

Phcedrus. I am come from Lysias 3 the son of 
Cephalus, and I am going to take a walk outside the wall, for I 
have been with him ever since the early dawn, which is along 
while, and our common friend Acumenus 4 advises me to walk 
in the country ; he says that this is far more refreshing than 
walking in the courts. 

Soc. There he is right. Lysias then, I suppose, was in the 
city? 

Phcedr. Yes, he was with Epicrates, 5 at the house of Mo- 
rychus, 6 that house which is near the temple of Olympian 
Zeus. 7 

Soc. And how did he entertain you ? Can I be wrong in 
supposing that Lysias gave you a feast of discourse ? 

Phcedr. You shall hear, if you have leisure to stay and 
listen. 

1 Phsedrus (fe'drus) : our knowledge of Phasdrus is obtained principally 
from this dialogue. 

2 Ilissus (i-hVsus) : a small river flowing through the east side of Athens. 

3 Lysias (lisT-as) : an Athenian orator. The father, Cephalus (cefa-lus), 
was on intimate terms with Socrates, and his house was the scene of Plato's 
Republic. See Republic, I., note 1. 

4 The physician. See Protagoras, note 18. 
6 Epicrates (e-pfk'ra-tez) : a politician. 

6 Morychus (m5'rf-kus) : a tragic poet. 

7 Zeus, supreme ruler of the universe, was supposed to have his throne on 
the highest peak of Mt. Olympus, in Thessaly. 

141 



142 PLATO THE TEACHER 

Soc. And would I not regard the conversation of you and 
Lysias as " a thing of higher import," as I may say in the 
words of Pindar, 8 " than any business ? " 

Phcedr. Will you go on ? 

Soc. And will you go on with the narration ? 

Phcedr. My tale, Socrates, is one of your sort, for the 
theme which occupied us was love, — after a fashion : Lysias 
imagined a fair youth who was being tempted, but not by a 
lover; and this was the point: he ingeniously proved that 
the non-lover should be accepted rather than the lover. 9 

Soc. O that is noble of him. And I wish that he would 
say a poor man rather than a rich, and an old man rather than 
a young one ; he should meet the case of me, and all of us, 
and then his words would indeed be charming, and of public 
utility ; and I am so eager to hear them that if you walk all 
the way to Megara, and when you have reached the wall come 
back, as Herodicus 10 recommends, without going in, I will 
not leave you. 

Phcedr. What do you mean, Socrates? How can you im- 
agine that I, who am quite unpracticed, can remember or do 

£ justice to an elaborate work, which the greatest rheto- 
rician of the day spent a long time in composing. In- 
deed, I cannot ; I would give a great deal if I could. 

Soc. I believe that I know Phaedrus about as well as I know 
myself, and I am very sure that he heard the words of Lysias, 
not once only, but again and again he made him say them, 
and Lysias was very willing to gratify him ; at last, when 
nothing, else would satisfy him, he got hold of the book, and 
saw what he wanted, — this was his morning's occupation, — 
and then when he was tired with sitting, he went out to take 
a walk, not until, as I believe, he had simply learned by heart 
the entire discourse, which may not have been very long ; and 
as he was going to take a walk outside the wall in order that 
he might practice, he saw a certain lover of discourse who had 

8 See Euthydemus, note 22. 

9 Owing in part to the ignorance and seclusion of women, close com- 
panionships between men were common in ancient Greece. Such relation- 
ships were in some cases entered into voluntarily, while in other cases the 
younger of the two was placed by parents or guardian in charge of the 
elder. The feeling between the two was sometimes slight, sometimes so in- 
tense as to be almost unintelligible to us. The influence of the relation- 
ship was sometimes highly beneficial and sometimes grossly corrupting. 

111 See Protagoras, note 30. 



PH/EDRUS 143 

the same complaint as himself: he saw and rejoiced ; now, 
thought he, "I shall have a partner in my revels." And he 
invited him to come with him. But when the lover of dis- 
course asked to hear the tale, he gave himself airs and said, 
" No, I can't," as if he didn't like ; although, if the hearer 
had refused, the end would have been that he would have 
made him listen whether he would or no. Therefore, Phae- 
drus, as he will soon speak in any case, beg him to speak at 
once. 

Phcedr. As you don't seem very likely to let me off until I 
speak in some way, the best thing that I can do is to speak as 
I best may. 

Soc. That is a very true observation of yours. 

Phcedr. I will do my best, for believe me, Socrates, I did 
not learn the very words ; O no, but I have a general notion 
of what he said, and will repeat concisely, and in order, the 
several arguments by which the case of the non -lover was 
proved to be superior to that of the lover ; let me begin at the 
beginning. 

Soc. Yes, my friend ; but you must first of all show what 
you have got in your left hand under your cloak, for that roll, 
as I suspect, is the actual discourse. Now, much as I love you, 
I would not have you suppose that I am going to have your 
memory exercised upon me, if you have Lysias himself here. 

Phcedr. Enough ; I see that I have no hope of practicing 
upon you. But if I am to read, where would you please 
to sit ? 

Soc. Turn this way ; let us go to the Ilissus, and sit down 
at some quiet spot. 

Phcedr. I am fortunate in not having my sandals, and as 
you never have any, I think that we may go along the brook 
and cool our feet in the water : this is the easiest way, and at 
midday and in the summer is far from being unpleasant. 

Soc. Lead on, and look out for a place in which we can sit 
down. 

Phcedr. Do you see that tallest plane-tree in the distance ? 

Soc. Yes. 

Phcedr. There are shade and gentle breezes, and grass on 
which we may either sit or lie down. 

Soc. Move on. 

Phcedr. I should like to know, Socrates, whether the place 



144 PLATO THE TEACHER 

is not somewhere here at which Boreas n is said to have car- 
ried off Orithyia from the banks of the Ilissus. 

Soc. That is the tradition. 

Phcedr. And is this the exact spot? The little stream is 
delightfully clear and bright ; I can fancy that there might be 
maidens playing near. 

Soc. I believe that the spot is not exactly here, but about a 
quarter of a mile lower down, where you cross to the tem- 
ple of Artemis, 12 and I think that there is some sort of altar of 
Boreas at the place. 

Phcedr. I don't recollect; but I wish that you would tell 
me whether you believe this tale. 

Soc. The wise are doubtful, and if, like them, I also 
doubted, there would be nothing very strange in that. I 
might have a rational explanation that Orithyia was playing 
with Pharmacia, 13 when a northern gust carried her over the 
neighboring rocks : and this being the manner of her death, 
she was said to have been carried away by Boreas. There is 
a discrepancy, however, about the locality, as according to 
another version of the story she was taken from the Areopa- 
gus, 14 and not from this place. Now I quite acknowledge 
that these explanations are very nice, but he is not to be en- 
vied who has to give them; much labor and ingenuity will be 
required of him ; and when he has once begun, he must go on 
and rehabilitate centaurs 15 and chimeras 16 dire. Gorgons 17 
and winged steeds flow in apace, and numberless other incon- 
ceivable and impossible monstrosities and marvels of nature. 
And if he is skeptical about them, and would fain reduce them 
all to the rules of probability, this sort of crude philosophy 
will take up all his time. Now I have certainly not time for 

11 Boreas (b5're-as) : mythological personification of the north wind, who 
lived in Thrace. He loved Orithyia (or'i'-thy'ya), daughter of the king of 
Athens, and carried her away from the banks of the Ilissus where she was 
playing games. 

12 Artemis (ar'te-mTs) : one of the major Greek divinities, goddess of the 
moon, and of the chase, corresponding to the Roman Diana. 

13 Pharmacia (far-ma'si-a) : the nymph of a spring near the Ilissus, and 
playmate of Orithyia. 

14 Areopagus (ar'e-op'a-gus) or Mars Hill : a hill in Athens. See Acts 
xvii. 22. 

^ Centaur (sen'taur) : a fabulous creature, half man and half horse. 

16 Chimera (ki-me'ra) : a fire-breathing monster with the head of a lion, 
the body of a goat, and the tail of a serpent. 

17 See Symposium, note 24, 



PH/EDRUS 145 

this ; shall I tell you why ? I must first know myself, as the 
Delphian inscription 18 says ; and I should be absurd indeed, 
if while I am still in ignorance of myself I were to be 
curious about that which is not my business. And there- 
fore I say farewell to all this ; the common opinion is enough 
for me. For, as I was saying, I want to know not about this, 
but about myself. Am I indeed a wonder more complicated 
and swollen with passion than the serpent Typho, 19 or a creat- 
ure of a gentler and simpler sort, to whom Nature has given 
a diviner and lowlier destiny? But here let me ask you, 
friend : Is not this the plane-tree to which you were conduct- 
ing us ? 

Phcedr. Yes, this is the tree. 

Soc. Yes, indeed, and a fair and shady resting-place, full of 
summer sounds and scents. There is the lofty and spreading 
plane-tree, and the agnus castus * high and clustering, in the 
fullest blossom and the greatest fragrance ; and the stream 
which flows beneath the plane-tree is deliciously cold to the 
feet. Judging from the ornaments and images, this must be a 
spot sacred to Achelous 21 and the Nymphs 22 ; moreover, there 
is a sweet breeze, and the grasshoppers chirrup ; and the great- 
est charm of all is the grass like a pillow gently sloping to the 
head. My dear Phaedrus, you have been an admirable guide. 

Phcedr. I always wonder at you, Socrates ; for when you 
are in the country, you really are like a stranger who is being 
led about by a guide. Do you ever cross the border ? I 
rather think that you never venture even outside the gates. 

Soc. Very true, my good friend ; and I hope that you will 
excuse me when you hear the reason, which is, that I am a 
lover of knowledge, and the men who dwell in the city are 
my teachers, and not the trees, or the country. Though I do, 
indeed, believe that you have found a spell with which to draw 
me out of the city into the country, as hungry cows are led by 
shaking before them a bait of leaves or fruit. For only hold 

18 The words "know thyself" were inscribed upon the temple of Apollo 
at Delphi. 

19 Typho (ty'fo) : a fearful monster with one hundred dragon heads, eyes 
that shot fire, and many terrible voices. He tried to usurp the throne of 
Zeus, but failed. 

20 A willow-like tree. 

21 Achelous (ak'e-15'us) : god of the river Achelous, the largest in Greece. 

22 Goddesses of lower rank, dwelling in groves, forests, caves, beside 
springs and rivers, on hills and lonely islands. 

IO 



146 PLATO THE TEACHER 

up the bait of discourse, and you may lead me all round 
Attica, and over the wide world. And now having arrived, I 
intend to lie down, and do you choose any posture in which 
you can read best. Begin. 

[Phaedrus reads the speech * of Lysias about love. 
The lover, Lysias claims, should be avoided as an un- 
reasonable, disagreeable, fickle, jealous person, who spoils 
the object of his affection by undue praise, selfishly deprives 
him of other friends and of many like advantages, and at last 
deserts him for another. Whereas the non -lover is a truly 
disinterested admirer, who desires at all times only the good 
of his friend. His affection is for the advantage of both, and 
for the injury of neither. 

The speech is very pretentious in style, and although it 
contains a germ of truth, the author's purpose is evidently to 
make fine phrases, and not to arrive at a true conclusion about 
his subject. When he has finished reading, Phaedrus appeals 
to Socrates thus :] 

Now, Socrates, what do you think ? Is not the discourse 
excellent, especially the language? 

Soc. Yes indeed, admirable ; the effect on me was ravish- 
ing. And this I owe to you, Phaedrus, for I observed you 
while reading to be in an ecstasy, and thinking that you are 
more experienced in these matters than I am, I followed your 
example, and, like you, became inspired with a divine frenzy. 

Phcedr. Indeed, you are pleased to be merry. 

Soc. Do you mean that I am not in earnest ? 

Phcedr. Now, don't talk in that way, Socrates, but let me 
have your real opinion ; I adjure you, by the god of friendship, 
to tell me whether you think that any Hellene 24 could have 
said more or spoken better on the same subject. 

Soc. Well, but are you and I expected to praise the senti- 
ments of the author, or only the clearness, and roundness, and 
accuracy, and tournure of the language? As to the 
first I willingly submit to your better judgment, for I 
am unworthy to form an opinion, having only attended to the 
rhetorical manner ; and I was doubting whether Lysias him- 

23 Probably not written by Lysias but invented by Plato, 
w Greek. 



PH^DRUS I47 

self would be able to defend that ; for I thought, though I 
speak under correction, that he repeated himself two or three 
times, either from want of words or from want of pains; and 
also, he appeared to me wantonly ambitious of showing how 
well he could say the same thing in two or three ways. 

Phcedr. Nonsense, Socrates ; that was his exhaustive treat- 
ment of the subject ; for he omitted nothing ; this is the special 
merit of the speech, and I do not think that any one could 
have made a fuller or better. 

Soc. I cannot go so far as that with you. Ancient sages, 
men and women, who have spoken and written of these things, 
would rise up in judgment against me, if I lightly assented to 
you. 

Phcedr. Who are they, and where did you hear anything 
better than this ? 

Soc. I am sure that I must have heard ; I don't remember 
at this moment from whom ; perhaps from Sappho 25 the fair, 
Anacreon 26 the wise ; or, possibly, from a prose writer. What 
makes me say this? Why, because I perceive that my bosom 
is full, and that I could make another speech as good as that 
of Lysias and different. Now I am certain that this is not an 
invention of my own, for I am conscious that I know nothing, 
and therefore I can only infer that I have been filled through 
the ears, like a pitcher from the waters of another, though I 
have actually forgotten in my stupidity who was my informant. 

Phcedr. That is grand. But never mind where you heard 
the discourse or of whom ; let that, if you will, be a mystery 
not to be divulged even at my earnest desire. But do as you 
say ; promise to make another and better oration of equal 
length on the same subject, with other arguments ; and I, like 
the nine Archons, 27 will promise to set up a golden image at 
Delphi 28 not only of myself, but of you, and as large as life. 

Soc. You are a dear golden simpleton if you suppose me 
to mean that Lysias has altogether missed the mark, and that 
I can make a speech from which all his arguments are to be 
excluded. The worst of authors will say something that is to 

25 Sappho (saf fo) : a celebrated Greek lyric poetess living in the latter part 
of the seventh century B. C. 

26 Anacreon (a-nak're-on, 550 (?) — B.C.) : a famous Greek lyric poet. 

27 Archons (ar'konz) : the rhipf ma gistrates at At hens, nine in number. 

28 See Apology, note 12. It was customary to place there statues and 
other votive offerings in honor of the god. 



I48 PLATO THE TEACHER 

the point. Who, for example, could speak on this thesis of 
yours without praising the discretion of the non-lover and 
blaming the folly of the lover ? These are the common- 
places which must come in (for what else is there to be 
said ?) and must be allowed and excused ; the only merit is 
in the arrangement of them, for there can be none in the in- 
vention ; but when you leave the commonplaces, then there 
may be some originality. 

Phcedr. I admit that there is reason in that, and I will be 
reasonable too, and will allow you to start with the premise 
that the lover is more disordered in his wits than the non- 
lover ; and if you go on after that and make a longer and bet- 
ter speech than Lysias, and use other arguments, then I say 
again that a statue you shall have of beaten gold, and take 
your place by the colossal offering of the Cypselids at Olym- 
piad 9 

Soc. Is not the lover serious, because only in fun I lay a 
finger upon his love ? And so, Phaedrus, you really imagine 
that I am going to improve upon his ingenuity ? 

Phcedr. There I have you as you had me, and you must 
speak " as you best can," and no mistake. And don't . . . 
compel me to say to you as you said to me, " I know Socrates 
as well as I know myself, and he was wanting to speak, but he 
gave himself airs." Rather I would have you consider that 
from this place we stir not until you have unbosomed yourself 
of the speech ; for here are we all alone, and I am stronger, 
remember, and younger than you ; therefore perpend, and do 
not compel me to use violence. 

Soc. But, my sweet Phsedrus, how can I ever compete with 
Lysias in an extempore speech ? He is a master in his art and 
I am an untaught man. 

Phcedr. You see how matters stand ; and therefore let there 
be no more pretences ; for, indeed, I know the word that is 
irresistible. 

Soc. Then don't say it. 

29 Olympia (o-lym'pi-a) : a small plain in Elis near the south-western 
coast of Greece, about no miles from Athens. Here was a grove sacred to 
Zeus, adorned with many temples, altars, statues, and votive offerings. Of 
the offerings of the Cypselids, who were descendants of Cypselus (syp'se-lus 
655-625 B.C.). a tyrant of Corinth, Grote says: "Their offerings conse- 
crated at Olympia excited great admiration, especially the gilt colossal 
statue of Zeus." [History of Greece, I., ch. 9.] 



PH^DRUS 149 

Phcedr. Yes, but I will ; and my word shall be an oath. 
" I say, or rather swear " — but what god will be the witness 
of my oath? — " I swear by this plane-tree, that unless you re- 
peat the discourse here, in the face of the plane-tree, I will 
never tell you another ; never let you have word of an- 
other ! " 

Soc. Villain ! I am conquered ; the poor lover of discourse 
has no more to say. 

Phcedr. Then why are you still at your tricks ? 

Soc. I am not going to play tricks now that you have taken 
the oath, for I cannot allow myself to be starved. 

Phcedr. Proceed. 

Soc. Shall I tell you what I will do ? 

Phcedr. What? 2 ^ 

Soc. I will veil my face and gallop through the dis- 
course as fast as I can, for if I see you, I shall feel ashamed and 
not know what to say. 

Phcedr. Only go on and you may do as you please. 

[After an invocation to the Muses, Socrates begins his speech, 
which he addresses to an imaginary youth, by inquiring into 
the nature and power of love. He says that in every person 
there are two principles, a better and a worse, which are in 
conflict with each other. The better one, reason, if allowed 
to rule, leads to temperance. The worse, desire, when vic- 
torious, leads to excess. Excess has many forms and many 
names, and among them is found love.] 

And now, dear Phaedrus, I shall pause for an instant to 
ask whether you do not think me, as I appear to myself, in- 
spired ? 

Phcedr. Yes, Socrates, you seem to have a very unusual flow 
of words. 

Soc. Listen to me, then, in silence ; for surely the place is 
holy ; so that you must not wonder, if, as I proceed, I appear 
to be in a divine fury, for already I am getting into dithyram- 
bics. 30 

Phcedr. That is quite true. 

30 The dithyramb was a kind of poetry of a lofty but often inflated style > 
The term was used metaphorically, as here, of any bombastic language. (L, 
and S.) 



150 PLATO THE TEACHER 

Soc. And that I attribute to you. But hear what follows, 
arid perhaps the fit may be averted ; all is in their hands above. 
And now I will go on talking to my youth. Listen : — 

[Socrates proceeds in much the same strain as Lysias, to set 
forth all the disadvantages and harm that result to a youth 
from his association with a lover. His speech is a parody on 
that of Lysias. He shows that he can surpass the rhetoricians 
in their own art. At the same time he develops still further 
the germ of truth presented by Lysias, that there is an un- 
worthy and spurious form of love which should be rejected. 
He concludes his censure of the lover thus :] 

Consider this, fair youth, and know that in the friendship 
of the lover there is no real kindness : he has an appetite and 
wants to feed upon you. 

"As wolves love lambs so lovers love their loves." 

But, as I said before, I am speaking in verse, and therefore 
I had better make an end ; that is enough. 

Phcedr. I thought that you were only half-way and were 
going to make a similar speech about all the advantages of 
accepting the non-lover. Why don't you go on? 

Soc. Does not your simplicity observe that I have got out 
of dithyrambics into epics ; and if my censure was in verse, 
what will my praise be? Don't you see that I am already 
overtaken by the Nymphs to whom you have mischievously, 
exposed me? And therefore I will only add that the non -lover 
has all the advantages in which the lover is charged with being 
deficient. And now I will say no more ; there has been enough 
said of both of them. Leaving the tale to its fate, I will cross 
the river and make the best of my way home, lest a worse 
thing be inflicted upon me by you. 

Phcedr. Not yet, Socrates ; not until the heat of the day 
has passed ; don't you see that the hour is noon, and the sun 
is standing over our heads ? Let us rather stay and talk over 
what has been said, and then return in the cool. 

Soc. Your love of discourse, Phsedrus, is superhuman, simply 
marvelous, and I do not believe that there is any one of your 
contemporaries who in one way or another has either made or 



PH.EDRUS 151 

been the cause of others making an equal number of speeches. 
I would except Simmias 31 the Theban, but all the rest are far 
behind you. And now I do verily believe that you have been 
the cause of another. 

Phcedr. That is good news. But what do you mean ? 

Soc. I mean to say that as I was about to cross the stream 
the usual sign was given to me : that is the sign which never 
bids but always forbids me to do what I am going to do ^ ; and 
I thought that I heard a voice saying in my ear that I had 
been guilty of impiety, and that I must not go away until I had 
made an atonement. Now I am a diviner, though not a very 
good one, but I have enough religion for my own needs, as you 
might say of a bad writer — his writing is good enough for 
him. And, O my friend, how singularly prophetic is the soul ! 
For at the time I had a sort of misgiving, and, like Ibycus, 33 
" I was troubled," and I suspected that I might be receiving 
honor from men at the expense of sinning against the gods. 
Now I am aware of the error. 

Phcedr. What error ? 

Soc. That was a dreadful speech which you brought with 
you, and you made me utter one as bad. 

Phcedr. How was that ? 

Soc. Foolish, I say, and in a degree impious ; and what can 
be more dreadful than this ? 

Phcedr. Nothing, if the speech was really such as you de- 
scribe. 

Soc. Well, and is not Eros 34 the son of Aphrodite 33 a 
mighty god ? 

Phcedr. That is the language of mankind about him. 

Soc. But that was not the language of Lysias' speech any 
more than of that other speech uttered through my lips when 
under the influence of your enchantments, and which I may 
call yours and not mine. For Love, if he be a god or divine, 
cannot be evil. Yet this was the error of both our 
speeches. There was also a solemnity about them which 
was truly charming : they had no truth or honesty in them, 
and yet they pretended to be something, hoping to succeed in 

31 See Phsedo, note 1. 

32 See Apology, 31 and 40. 

33 Ibycus (fb'y-cus) : a Greek lyric poet who wrote about 530 B.C. 

34 Eros (e'ros) : the god of love'. See Symposium, note 16. 
85 See Symposium, note 12. 



152 PLATO THE TEACHER 

deceiving the manikins of earth and be famous among them. 
And therefore I must have a purgation. And now I bethink 
me of an ancient purgation of mythological error which was 
devised, not by Homer 36 for he never had the wit to discover 
why he was blind, but by Stesichorus, 37 who was a philosopher 
and knew the reason why ; and, therefore, when he lost his 
eyes, for that was the penalty which was inflicted upon him for 
reviling the lovely Helen, he purged himself. And the pur- 
gation was a recantation, which began with the words : — 

" That was a lie of mine when I said that thou never embarkedst on 
the swift ships, or wentest to the walls of Troy." 

And when he had completed his poem, which is called " the 
recantation," immediately his sight returned to him. Now 
I will be wiser than either Stesichorus or Homer, in that I am 
going to make a recantation before I lose mine ; and this I 
will attempt, not as before, veiled and ashamed, but with 
forehead bold and bare. 

Phcedr. There is nothing which I should like better to 
hear. 

Soc. Only think, my good Phasdrus, what an utter want 
of delicacy was shown in the two discourses; I mean, in my 
own and in the one which you recited out of the book. 
Would not any one who was himself of a noble and gentle 
nature, and who loved or ever had loved a nature like his 
own, when he heard us speaking of the petty causes of lovers' 
jealousies, and of their exceeding animosities, and the injuries 
which they do to their beloved, have imagined that our ideas 
of love were taken from some haunt of sailors to which good 
manners were unknown — he would certainly never have ad- 
mitted the justice of our censure ? 

Phczdr. Certainly not. 

Soc. Therefore, because I blush at the thought of this per- 
son, and also because I am afraid of the god Love, I desire to 
wash down that gall and vinegar with a wholesome draught ; 
and I would counsel Lysias not to delay, but to write another 

38 See Apology, note 39. According to tradition Homer was a wandering 
minstrel, poor and blind. 

37 Stesichorus (ste-sik'o-rus, 632-552 B.C.): a celebrated Greek poet of 
Sicily. There is a fable of his being miraculously struck blind after writing 
an attack upon Helen (see Apology, note 21), and recovering his sight after 
he composed a recantation. 



PH^DRUS 153 

discourse, which shall prove other things being equal that the 
lover ought to be accepted rather than the non -lover. 

Phcedr. Be assured that he shall. You shall speak the 
praises of the lover, and Lysias shall be made to write them in 
another discourse. I will compel him to do this. 

Soc. You will be true to your nature in that, and there- 
fore I believe you. 

Phcedr. Speak, and fear not. 

Soc. But where is the fair youth whom I was addressing, 
and who ought to listen, in order that he may not be misled 
by one side before he has heard the other ? 

Phcedr. He is close at hand, and always at your service. 

[The second discourse of Socrates is a serious attempt 2 44= 
on his part to make clear what he regards as the truth 
about love in its highest form. He begins — " That was a lie in 
which I said that the beloved ought to accept the non-lover 
and reject the lover, because the one is sane and the other 
mad. For that might have been truly said if madness were 
simply an evil ; but there is also a madness which is the spe- 
cial gift of heaven and the source of the chiefest blessings 
among men." This divine madness is of four kinds — the gift 
of prophecy, religious ecstasy in which the soul is purified 
from sin, poetical inspiration, and lastly the madness of 
love.] 

I might tell of many other noble deeds which have sprung 
from inspired madness. And therefore, let no one frighten 
or flutter us by saying that temperate love is preferable to 
mad love, but let him further show, if he would carry off the 
palm, that love is not sent by the gods for any good to lover 
or beloved. And we, on our part, will prove in answer to 
him that the madness of love is the greatest of Heaven's 
blessings, and the proof shall be one which the wise will re- 
ceive, and the witling disbelieve. And, first of all, let us 
inquire what is the truth about the affections and actions of 
the soul, divine as well as human. And thus we begin our 
proof: — 

[The soul is immortal because it is the source of all motion 
both in itself and in all other things.] 



154 PLATO THE TEACHER 

Her form is a theme of divine and large discourse ; human 
language may, however, speak of this briefly, and in a figure. 

, Let our figure be of a composite nature, — a pair of 
winged horses and a charioteer. Now the winged 
horses and the charioteer of the gods are all of them noble, 
and of noble breed, while ours are mixed ; and we have a 
charioteer who drives them in a pair, and one of them is 
noble and of noble origin, and the other is ignoble and of ig- 
noble origin ; and, as might be expected, there is a great 
deal of trouble in managing them. I will endeavor to ex- 
plain to you in what way the mortal differs from the immor- 
tal creature. The soul or animate being has the care of the 
inanimate, and traverses the whole heaven in divers forms 
appearing ; when perfect and fully winged she soars upward, 
and is the ruler of the universe; while the imperfect soul 
loses her feathers, and drooping in her flight at last settles on 
the solid ground, — there, finding a home, she receives an 
earthly frame which appears to be self-moved, but is really 
moved by her power ; and this composition of soul and body 
is called a living and mortal creature. For no such union 
can be reasonably believed, or at all proved to be other than 
mortal ; although fancy may imagine a god whom, not hav- 
ing seen nor surely known, we invent — such a one, an im- 
mortal creature having a body, and having also a soul which 
have been united in all time. Let that, however, be as God 
wills, and be spoken of acceptably to him. But the reason 
why the soul loses her feathers should be explained, and is as 
follows : — 

The wing is intended to soar aloft and carry that which 
gravitates downwards into the upper region, which is the 
dwelling of the gods ; and this is that element of the body 
which is most akin to the divine. Now the divine is beauty, 
wisdom, goodness, and the like; and by these the wing of 
the soul is nourished, and -grows apace ; but when fed upon 
evil and foulness, and the like, wastes and falls away. Zeus, 
the mighty lord holding the reins of a winged chariot, 
leads the way in heaven, ordering all and caring for 
all ; and there follows him the heavenly array of gods and 
demi-gods, divided into eleven bands; for only Hestia £8 is 

88 Hestia (hes'ti-a) : goddess of the hearth, corresponding to the Roman 
Vesta. 



PH/EDRUS 155 

left at home in the house of heaven ; but the rest of the 
twelve greater deities march in their appointed order. And 
they see in the interior of heaven many blessed sights ; and 
there are ways to and fro, along which the happy gods are 
passing, each one fulfilling his own work ; and any one may 
follow who pleases, for jealousy has no place in the heavenly 
choir. This is within the heaven. But when they go to 
feast and festival, then they move right up the steep ascent, 
and mount the top of the dome of heaven. Now the chariots 
of the gods, self-balanced, upward glide in obedience to the 
rein ; but the others have a difficulty, for the steed who has 
evil in him, if he has not been properly trained by the char- 
ioteer, gravitates and inclines and sinks towards the earth : 
and this is the hour of agony and extremest conflict of the 
soul. For the immortal souls, when they are at the end of 
their course, go out and stand upon the back of heaven, and 
the revolution of the spheres carries them round, and they 
behold the world beyond. Now of the heaven which is above 
the heavens, no earthly poet has sung or ever will sing in a 
worthy manner. But I must tell, for I am bound to speak 
truly when speaking of the truth. The colorless and formless 
and intangible essence is visible to the mind, which is the 
only lord of the soul. Circling around this in the region 
above the heavens is the place of true knowledge. And as 
the divine intelligence, and that of every other soul which is 
rightly nourished, is fed upon mind and pure knowledge, 
such an intelligent soul is glad at once more beholding being ; 
and feeding on the sight of truth is replenished, until the 
revolution of the worlds brings her round again to the same 
place. During the revolution she beholds justice, temper- 
ance, and knowledge absolute, not in the form of generation 
or of relation, which men call existence, but knowledge ab- 
solute in existence absolute ; and beholding other existences 
in like manner, and feeding upon them, she passes down into 
the interior of the heavens and returns home, and there the 
charioteer putting up his horses at the stall, gives them am- 
brosia to eat and nectar to drink. 

This is the life of the gods ; but of other souls, that which 
follows God best and is likest to him lifts the head of the ~ 
charioteer into the outer world and is carried round in 
the revolution, troubled indeed by the steeds, and behold- 



156 PLATO THE TEACHER 

ing true being, but hardly ; another rises and falls, and sees, 
and again fails to see by reason of the unruliness of the steeds. 
The rest of the souls are also longing after the upper world 
and they all follow, but not being strong enough they sink 
into the gulf as they are carried round, plunging, treading on 
one another, striving to be first ; and there is confusion and 
the extremity of effort, and many of them are lamed or have 
their wings broken through the ill driving of the charioteers ; 
and all of them after a fruitless toil go away without being 
initiated into the mysteries of being, and are nursed with the 
food of opinion. The reason of their great desire to behold 
the plain of truth is that the food which is suited to the high- 
est part of the soul comes out of that meadow ; and the wing 
on which the soul soars is nourished with this. And there is 
a law of the goddess Retribution, that the soul which attains 
any vision of truth in company with the god is preserved 
from harm until the next period, and he who always attains 
is always unharmed. But when she is unable to follow, and 
fails to behold the vision of truth, and through some ill-hap 
sinks beneath the double load of forgetfulness and vice, and 
her feathers fall from her and she drops to earth, then the 
law ordains that this soul shall in the first generation pass, 
not into that of any other animal, but only of man ; and the 
soul which has seen most of truth shall come to the birth as a 
philosopher or artist, or musician or lover; that which has 
seen truth in the second degree shall be a righteous king or 
warrior or lord ; the soul which is of the third class shall be a 
politician or economist or trader ; the fourth shall be a lover 
of gymnastic toils or a physician ; the fifth a prophet or hiero- 
phant 39 ; to the sixth a poet or imitator will be appropriate ; 
to the seventh the life of an artisan or husbandman ; to the 
eighth that of a Sophist or demagogue ; to the ninth that of a 
tyrant ; all these are states of probation, in which he who 
lives righteously improves, and he who lives unrighteously 
deteriorates his lot. 

Ten thousand years must elapse before the soul can return 
to the place from whence she came, for she cannot grow her 
wings in less; only the soul of a philosopher, guile- 
less and true, or the soul of a lover, who is not without 
philosophy, may acquire wings in the third recurring period of 

39 See Protagoras, note 27. 



PH^DRUS 157 

a thousand years : and if they choose this life three times in 
succession, then they have their wings given them, and go 
away at the end of three thousand years. But the others re- 
ceive judgment when they have completed their first life, and 
after the judgment they go, some of them to the houses of cor- 
rection which are under the earth, and are punished ; others 
to some place in heaven whither they are lightly borne by 
justice, and there they live in a manner worthy of the life 
which they led here when in the form of men. And at the 
end of the first thousand years the good souls and also the evil 
souls both come to cast lots and choose their second life, and 
they may take any that they like. And then the soul of the 
man may pass into the life of a beast, or from the beast again 
into the man. But the soul of him who has never seen the 
truth will not pass into the human form, for man ought to 
have intelligence of universals, proceeding from many particu- 
lars of sense to one conception of reason ; and this is the 
recollection of those things which our soul once saw when in 
company with God — when looking down from above on that 
which we now call being and upwards towards the true being. 
And therefore the mind of the philosopher alone has wings ; 
and this is just, for he is always, according to the measure of 
his abilities, clinging in recollection to those things in which 
God abides, and in beholding which He is what he is. And 
he who employs aright these memories is ever being initiated 
into perfect mysteries and alone becomes truly perfect. But, 
as he forgets earthly interests and is rapt in the divine, the 
vulgar deem him mad, and rebuke him ; they do not see that 
he is inspired. 

Thus far I have been speaking of the fourth and last kind 
of madness, which is imputed to him who, when he sees the 
beauty of earth, is transported with the recollection of the true 
beauty ; he would like to fly away, but he cannot ; he is like 
a bird fluttering and looking upward and careless of the world 
below ; and he is therefore esteemed mad. And I have shown 
that this is of all inspirations the noblest and best, and comes 
of the best, and that he who has part or lot in this madness is 
called a lover of the beautiful. For, as has been already 
said, every soul of man has in the way of nature beheld 
true being; this was the condition of her passing into the form 
of man. But all men do not easily recall the things of the 



158 PLATO THE TEACHER 

other world; they may have seen them for a short time only, 
or they may have been unfortunate when they fell to earth, 
and may have lost the memory of the holy things which they 
saw there, through some evil and corrupting association. Few 
there are who retain the remembrance of them sufficiently ; 
and they, when they behold any image of that other world, 
are rapt in amazement; but they are ignorant of what this 
means, because they have no clear perceptions. For there is 
no light in the earthly copies of justice or temperance or any 
of the higher qualities which are precious to souls : they are 
seen but through a glass dimly ; and there are few who, going 
to the images, behold in them the realities, and they only with 
difficulty. They might have seen beauty shining in brightness, 
when, with the happy band following in the train of Zeus, as 
we philosophers did, or with other gods as others did, they 
saw a vision and were initiated into most blessed mysteries, 
which we celebrated in our state of innocence; and having no 
feeling of evils as yet to come; beholding apparitions innocent 
and simple and calm and happy as in a mystery ; shining in 
pure light, pure ourselves and not yet enshrined in that living 
tom«b which we carry about, now that we are imprisoned in 
the body, as in an oyster-shell. Let me linger thus long over 
the memory of scenes which have passed away. 

But of beauty, I repeat again that we saw her there shining 

in company with the celestial forms; and coming to earth we 

find her here too, shining in clearness through the clearest: 

aperture of sense. For sight is the keenest of our bodily 

senses; though not by that is wisdom seen, for her loveliness 

would have been transporting if there had been a visible image 

of her, and this is true of the loveliness of the other ideas as 

well. But beauty only has this portion, that she is at once 

the loveliest and also the most apparent. Now he who has not 

\/been lately initiated, or who has become corrupted, is not 

easily carried out of this world to the sight of absolute beauty 

in the other ; he looks only at that which has the name of 

beauty in this world, and instead of being awed at the sight 

of her, like a brutish beast he rushes on to enjoy. 

But he whose initiation is recent, and who has been the 

spectator of many glories in the other world, is amazed 

when he sees any one having a godlike face or form, which 

is the expression or imitation of divine beauty; and at first a 



PH/EDRUS 1 59 

shudder runs through him, and some "misgiving" of a former 
world steals over him; then looking upon the face of his be- 
loved as of a god he reverences him, and if he were not afraid 
of being thought a downright madman, he would sacrifice to 
his beloved as to the image of a god. 

[When the lover beholds the divine beauty of his beloved he 
receives the effluence of that beauty into his own soul, and by 
it the nobler and diviner part of his nature is nourished. He 
is filled with joy, because the wing of his soul thus begins to 
grow, and he is happy only when in the presence of his be- 
loved. When the beloved is absent, and the holy effluence 
is withdrawn, this growth of the soul's wing ceases, and the 
lover is filled with pain and unrest. He is constrained to flee 
to his beloved as to a physician.] 

And this state, my dear imaginary youth, is by men called 
love, and among the gods has a name which you, in your sim- 
plicity, may be inclined to mock ; there are two lines in honor 
of love in the Homeric Apocrypha m in which the name occurs. 
One of them is rather outrageous, and is not quite metrical ; 
they are as follow : — 

" Mortals call him Eros (love), 

But the immortals call him Pteros (fluttering dove) 
Because fluttering of wings is a necessity to him." 

You may believe this or not as you like. At any rate the 
loves of lovers and their causes are such as I have described. 

[Now the character of the lover depends upon the god whom 
he followed in the upper world, and this same character the 
lover tries to cultivate in the object of his love. The follow- 
ers of every god] 

seek a love who is to be like their god, and when they have 
found him, they themselves imitate their god, and persuade 
their love to do the same, and bring him into harmony with 
the form and ways of the god as far as they can ; for they 
have no feelings of envy or mean enmity towards their beloved, 

40 Writings falsely attributed to Homer. 



l6o PLATO THE TEACHER 

but they do their utmost to create in him the greatest likeness 
of themselves and the god whom they honor. And the de- 
sire of the lover, if effected, and the initiation of which I 
speak into the mysteries of true love, is thus fair and blissful 
to the beloved when he is chosen by the lover who is driven 
mad by love. 

And so the beloved who, like a god, has received ev- 
a = er y true an d loyal service from his lover, not in pretense 
but in reality, being also himself of a nature friendly to 
his admirer, if in former days he has blushed to own his passion 
and turned away his lover, because his youthful companions 
or others slanderously told him that he would be disgraced, 
now as years advance, at the appointed age and time is led to 
receive him into communion. For fate, which has ordained 
that there shall be no friendship among the evil, has also or- 
dained that there shall ever be friendship among the good. 
And when he has received him into communion and intimacy, 
then the beloved is amazed at the good- will of the lover ; he 
recognizes that the inspired friend is worth all other friend- 
ship or kinships, which have nothing of friendship in them in 
comparison. . . . After this their happiness depends upon 
their self-control ; if the better elements of the mind which lead 
to order and philosophy prevail, then they pass their life in this 
world in happiness and harmony — masters of themselves and 
orderly — enslaving the vicious and emancipating the virtuous 
elements ; and when the end comes, being light and ready to fly 
away, they conquer in one of the three heavenly or truly Olym- 
pian victories 41 ; nor can human discipline or divine inspiration 
confer any greater blessing on man than this. 

[If, however, they abandon philosophy and lead the lower 
life of ambition, they lose the fairest reward which might have 
been theirs ; and still their destiny is not an unhappy one.] 

For those who have once begun the heavenward pilgrimage 
may not go down again to darkness and the journey beneath 
the earth, but they live in light always ; happy companions in 
their pilgrimage, and when the time comes at which they re- 
ceive their wings they have the same plumage because of their 
love. 

41 Compare 249. 



PH^DRUS l6l 

Thus great are the heavenly blessings which the friendship 
of a lover will confer on you, my youth. Whereas the at- 
tachment of the non-lover which is just a vulgar compound 
of temperance and niggardly earthly ways and motives, will 
breed meanness — praised by the vulgar as virtue in your 
inmost soul ; will send you bowling round the earth 25 Jo 
during a period of nine thousand years, and leave you 
a fool in the world below. 42 

And thus, dear Eros, I have made and paid my recantation, 
as well as I could and as fairly as I could ; the poetical fig- 
ures I was compelled to use, because Phaedrus would have 
them. And now forgive the past and accept the present, and 
be gracious and merciful to me, and do not deprive me of 
sight or take from me the art of love, but grant that I may be 
yet more esteemed in the eyes of the fair. And if Phsedrus 
or I myself said anything objectionable in our first speeches, 
blame Lysias, who is the father of the brat, and let us have 
no more of his progeny; bid him study philosophy, like his 
brother Polemarchus ; and then his lover Phaedrus will no 
longer halt between two, but dedicate himself wholly to love 
and philosophical discourses. 

Phcedr. I say with you, Socrates, may this come true if 
this be for my good. But why did you make this discourse 
of yours so much finer than the other ? I wonder at that. 
And I begin to be afraid that I shall lose conceit of Lysias, 
even if he be willing to make another as long as yours, which 
I doubt. For one of our politicians lately took to abusing 
him on this very account; he would insist on calling him a 
speech-writer. So that a feeling of pride may probably induce 
him to give up writing. 

Soc. That is an amusing notion ; but I think that you are a 
little mistaken in your friend if you imagine that he is fright- 
ened at every noise ; and, possibly, you think that his assail- 
ant was in earnest? 

Phcedr. I thought, Socrates, that he was. And you are 
aware that the most powerful and considerable men among 
our statesmen are ashamed of writing speeches and leaving 
them in a written form because they are afraid of posterity, 
and do not like to be called Sophists. 

42 Compare 249, 



1 62 PLATO THE TEACHER 

[Socrates replies that it is only a case of sour grapes with 
the assailants of Lysias. As a matter of fact there is noth- 
ing of which the great politicians are so fond as of writing 
speeches. They seek to display their own wisdom and attain 
immortality by the authorship of laws. A king or an orator 
who does attain immortality through his laws is looked upon 
by posterity as a god, and such he considers himself. Since 
the politicians are really great rhetoricians, in reproaching 
Lysias they would be casting a slur on their own favorite pur- 
suit.] 

Soc. Any one may see that there is no disgrace in the fact 
of writing? 

Phcedr. Certainly not. 

Soc. There may however be a disgrace in writing, not well, 
but badly? 

Phcedr. That is true. 

Soc. And what is well and what is badly, — need we ask 
Lysias, or any other poet or orator, who ever wrote or will 
write either a political or any other work, in metre or out of 
metre, poet or prose writer, to teach us this? 

Phcedr. Need we? What motive has a man to live if not 
for the pleasures of discourse ? Surely he would not live for 
the sake of bodily pleasures, which almost always have pre- 
vious pain as a condition of them, and therefore are rightly 
called slavish. 

Soc. There is time yet. And I can fancy that the grass- 
hoppers who are still chirruping in the sun over our heads 
are talking to one another and looking at us. What 
would they say if they saw that we also, like the many, 
are not talking but slumbering at midday, lulled by their 
voices, too indolent to think ? They would have a right to 
laugh at us, and might imagine that we are slaves coming to 
our place of resort, who like sheep lie asleep at noon about the 
fountain. But if they see us discoursing, and like Odysseus 
sailing by their siren voices, 43 they may perhaps, out of respect, 
give us of the gifts which they receive of the gods and give 
to men. 

43 See Symposium, note 35. When the Greek hero Odysseus passed the 
island of the Sirens on his way home from the Trojan War, he had the ears 
of his companions stopped with wax and himself bound to the mast, so that 
■they all sailed by in safety. 



PH^EDRUS 163 

Phcedr. What gifts do you mean ? I never heard of any. 

Soc. A lover of music like yourself ought surely to have 
heard the story of the grasshoppers, who are said to have been 
human beings in an age before the Muses. And when the 
Muses came and song appeared they were ravished with de- 
light ; and singing always, never thought of eating and drink- 
ing, until at last they forgot and died. And now they live 
again in the grasshoppers ; and this is the return which the 
Muses make to them, — they hunger no more, neither thirst any 
more, but are always singing from the moment that they are 
born, and never eating or drinking ; and when they die they 
go and inform the Muses in heaven who honors them on earth. 
They win the love of Terpsichore 41 for the dancers by their re- 
port of them ; of Erato 43 for the lovers, and of the other Muses 
for those who do them honor, according to the several ways 
of honoring them : of Calliope 46 the eldest Muse, and of her 
who is next to her 47 for the votaries of philosophy ; for these 
are the Muses who are chiefly concerned with heaven and the 
ideas, divine as well as human, and they have the sweetest ut- 
terance. For many reasons, then, we ought always to talk 
and not to sleep at midday. 

Phcedr. Let us talk. 

Soc. Shall we discuss the rules of writing and speech as we 
were proposing? 

Phcedr. Very good. 2<S °" 

[The first rule of good speaking, Socrates claims, is that 
the speaker must have knowledge — he must know the truth 
of the matter about which he is going to speak. This 
seems doubtful at first, for rhetoric does not deal with truth 
but only with the opinions of men. The art of rhetoric, 
whether employed in public or private, in regard to matters 
great or small, good or bad, is " a universal art of enchanting 
the mind by arguments. ' ' It makes the good appear evil, the 
just unjust, the like unlike, or vice versa, just as the speaker 
pleases. Nevertheless, though knowledge of the truth alone 
will not give one the art of persuasion, neither can that art be 

44 Terpsichore (terp-sfk'o-re) : the Muse who presided over choral song 
and dancing. 

45 Erato (er'a-t5) : the Muse who presided over love-poetry. 

46 Calliope (k&l-li'o-pe) : the Muse of Epic poetry and eloquence. 

47 Jowett says this refers to Urania (u-ra'ni-a), the Muse of Astronomy. 



1 64 PLATO THE TEACHER 

separated from such knowledge. Even when the object of the 
speaker is to deceive his hearers, he must depart from the truth 
very gradually indeed or he will be detected. He must pre- 
sent to his audience something which very nearly resembles 
the truth, for error slips in through resemblances. Now in 
order to know what resembles the truth, the deceiver must 
know the truth itself. This knowledge of the truth also ena- 
bles him to detect a deception employed against himself. 
" Then he who would be a master of the art must know the 
real nature of everything ; or he will never know either how 
to contrive or how to escape the gradual departure from truth 
into the opposite of truth which is effected by the help of re- 
semblances." 

Socrates proposes that they use the speech of Lysias and 
his own about love as illustrations of the art of rhetoric. 
Lysias is first criticised for not beginning with a definition of 
his subject. Love is a term as to whose meaning we are not 
all agreed, and it should be denned by a speaker in the open- 
ing of his discourse. Socrates began with a definition of love, 
but Lysias began with what should have been the end of his 
speech. Socrates' speeches are also superior to that of Lysias in 
respect to arrangement. Lysias seems to have written things 
down just as they came into his head without any regard to 
arrangement. " Every discourse," says Socrates, "ought to 
be a living creature, having its' own body and head and feet ; 
there ought to be a middle, beginning, and end, which are 
in a manner agreeable to one another, and to the whole." 
Such a vital connection does not exist between the parts of 
Lysias' discourse. Although the myth which Socrates related 
was only the creation of fancy, it " involved two principles 
which would be charming if they could be fixed by art."] 

Phcedr. What are they ? 

Soc. First, the comprehension of scattered particulars in one 
idea : the speaker defines his several notions in order that he 
may make his meaning clear, as in our definition of love, 
which whether true or false certainly gave clearness and con- 
sistency to the discourse. 

Phcedr. What is the other principle, Socrates ? 

Soc. Secondly, there is the faculty of division according 
to the natural ideas or members, not breaking any part as a 



PH^DRUS 165 

bad carver might. But, as the body may be divided into a 
left side and into a right side, having parts right and left, 
so in the two discourses there was assumed, first of all, 
the general idea of unreason, and then one of the two ?Z 
proceeded to divide the parts of the left side and did not 
desist until he found in them an evil or left-handed love which 
the speaker justly reviled ; and the other leading us to the 
right portion in which madness lay, found another love, hav- 
ing the same name, but yet divine, which he held up before 
us and applauded as the author of the greatest benefits. 

Phcedr. That is most true. 

Soc. I am a great lover of these processes of division and 
generalization ; they help me to speak and think. And if I 
find any man who is able to see unity and plurality in nature, 
him I follow, and walk in his steps as if he were a god. And 
those who have this art, I have hitherto been in the habit of 
calling dialecticians ; but God knows whether the name is 
right or not. And I should like to know what name you 
would give to your or Lysias' disciples, and whether this may 
not be that famous art of rhetoric which Thrasymachus a and 
others practice ? Skillful speakers they are, and impart their 
skill to any who will consent to worship them as kings and to 
bring them gifts. 

Phcedr. Yes, they are royal men ; but their art is not the 
same with the art of those whom you call, and rightly, in my 
opinion, dialecticians. 

[The rhetorician does not employ the " processes of division 
and generalization" which Socrates praises in the art of the 
dialectician. Instead of this, he relies upon a great array of 
technical devices which are given imposing names and the 
rules for which fill many books on rhetoric. It is true that 
rhetoric has very great power in public meetings. The ora- 
tor, however, does not acquire his power by a study of rules, 
as the rhetoricians seem to think. Rules are only the pre- 
liminaries of an art, and should not be confused with the art 
itself.] 

Soc. Suppose a person to come to your friend Eryximachus, 
or to his father Acumenus, 49 and to say to him : "I know how 

48 See Rep., I., note 1. 49 See Protagoras, note 18. 



l66 PLATO THE TEACHER 

to apply drugs which shall have either a heating or a cooling 
effect, and I can give a vomit and also a purge, and all that 
sort of thing ; and knowing all this, as I do, I claim to be a 
physician and a teacher of physic" — what do you suppose 
that they would say ? 

Phcedr. They would be sure to ask him whether he knew 
" to whom " he would give them, and " when," and " how 
much." 

Soc. And suppose that he were to reply : " No ; I know 
nothing of that ; I expect those whom I have taught all this 
to do that of themselves. ' ' 

Phcedr. They would reply that he is a madman or a pedant 
who fancies that he is a physician, because he has read some- 
thing in a book, or has stumbled on a few drugs, although he 
has no real understanding of the art of medicine. 

Soc. And suppose a person were to come to Sophocles or 
Euripides * and say that he knows how to make a long speech 
about a small matter, and a short speech about a great matter, 
and also a sorrowful speech, or a terrible, or threatening speech, 
or any other kind of speech, and in teaching this fancies that 
he is teaching the art of tragedy ? 

Phcedr. They too would surely laugh at him if he fancies 
that tragedy is anything but the arranging of these elements 
in a manner suitable to one another and to the whole. 

Soc. But I do not suppose that they would be rude to him 
or revile him. Would they not treat him as a musician would 
treat a man who thinks that he is a harmonist because he 
knows how to pitch the highest and lowest note ; happening 
to meet such a one he would not say to him savagely, " Fool, 
you are mad ! " O, no ; he would rather say to him in a gen- 
tle and musical tone of voice: "My good friend, he who 
would be a harmonist must certainly know this., and yet he 
may understand nothing of harmony if he has not got beyond 
your stage of knowledge, for you only know the preliminaries 
of harmony and not harmonies. ' ' 
, Phcedr. Very true. 

Soc. And would not Sophocles say to the display of 
the would-be tragedian, that this was not tragedy but the 
preliminaries of tragedy, and would not Acumenus say to 

50 Sophocles (sofo-klez, 495-405 B.C.), Euripides (u-np'i-dez, 480-406 
B.C.): great Athenian writers of tragedy. 



PH^DRUS 167 

the would-be doctor that this was not medicine but the pre- 
liminaries of medicine ? 

Phcedr. Very true. 

Soc. And if Adrastus 51 the mellifluous or Pericles 52 heard of 
these wonderful arts, brachylogies and eikonologies 53 and all 
the hard names which we have been endeavoring to draw into 
the light of day, what would they say ? Instead of losing tem- 
per and applying uncomplimentary epithets, as you and I have 
been doing to the authors of such an imaginary art, their su- 
perior wisdom would rather censure us, as well as them. Have 
a little patience, Phsedrus and Socrates, they would say, and 
don't be angry with those who from some want of dialectical 
skill are unable to define the nature of rhetoric, and conse- 
quently suppose that they have found the art in the prelimi- 
nary conditions of the art, and when they have taught these to 
others, fancy that they have been teaching the whole art of 
rhetoric ; but as to persuasion in detail and unity of composi- 
tion, that they regard as an easy thing with which their dis- 
ciples may supply themselves. 

Phcedr. I quite admit, Socrates, that the art of rhetoric 
which these men teach and of which they write is such as you 
describe — in that I agree with you. But I still want to know 
where and how the true art of rhetoric and persuasion is to be 
acquired. 

Soc. The perfection of oratory is, or rather must be, like 
the perfection of all things, partly given by nature ; but this 
is assisted by art, and if you have the natural power you will 
be famous as a rhetorician, if you only add knowledge and 
practice, and in either you may fall short. But the art, as far 
as there is an art, of rhetoric does not lie in the direction of 
Tisias 54 or Thrasymachus. 

Phcedr. But in what direction then ? 

Soc. I should conceive that Pericles was the most accom- 
plished of rhetoricians. 

Phcedr. What of that ? 

Soc. All the higher arts require much discussion and lofty 
contemplation of nature ; this is the source of sublimity and 

51 Adrastus (a-dras'tus). 

52 See Protagoras, note 37. 

53 Brachylogies : brevity in speech or writing. Eikonologyj figurative 
speaking. 

54 Tisias (tis'i-as) : a rhetorician. 



1 68 PLATO THE TEACHER 

perfect comprehensive power. And this, as I conceive, was 
the quality which, in addition to his natural gifts, Pericles ac- 
quired from his happening to know Anaxagoras. 55 He 
was imbued with the higher philosophy, and attained the 
knowledge of mind and matter, which was the favorite theme of 
Anaxagoras, and hence he drew what was applicable to his art. 

Phcedr. Explain. 

Soc. Rhetoric is like medicine. 

Phcedr. How is that? 

Soc. Why, because medicine has to define the nature of the 
body and rhetoric of the soul — if you would proceed, not em- 
pirically but scientifically, in the one case to impart health 
and strength by giving medicine and food, in the other to 
implant the conviction which you require by the right use of 
words and principles. 

Phcedr. You are probably right in that. 

[The physician must study the body in whole and part that 
he may understand its nature and know how it may be af- 
fected at different times and in different ways. Just so must 
the rhetorician study the soul that his efforts may be intel- 
ligent when he seeks to produce conviction in a soul.] 

Soc. Then clearly, Thrasymachus or any one else who 
elaborates a system of rhetoric will give an exact de- 
scription of the soul ; which he will make to appear either as 
single and same, or, like the body, multiform. That is what 
we should call showing the nature of the soul. 

Phcedr. Exactly. 

Soc. He will next proceed to speak of the instruments by 
which the soul acts or is affected in any way. 

Phazdr. True. 

Soc. Thirdly, having arranged men and speeches, and their 
modes and affections in different classes, and fitted them into 
one another he will point out the connection between them — 
he will show why one is naturally persuaded by a particular 
form of argument, and another not. 

55 Anaxagoras (an-aks-ag'o-ras 500 (?)-420 B.c) :a Greek philosopher; 
a friend of Pericles; banished from Athens 434 B.C. on charge of athe- 
ism. He attempted to explain nature partly by blindly working material 
causes, and partly by the occasional intervention of mind. See Phaedo, 97, 
summary. 



PILEDRUS 169 

Phcedr. That will certainly be a very good way. 

Soc. Yes, that is the true and only way in which any sub- 
ject can be set forth or treated by rules of art, whether in 
speaking or writing. But the writers of the present day, at 
whose feet you have sat, improperly conceal all this about the 
soul which they know quite well. Nor, until they adopt our 
method of reading and writing, can we admit that they write 
by rules of art. 

Phcedr. What is our method ? 

Soc. I cannot give you the exact details ; but I should like 
to tell you generally, as far as I can, how a man ought to pro- 
ceed according to the rules of art. 

Phcedr. Let me hear. 

Soc. Oratory is the art of enchanting the soul, and there- 
fore he who would be an orator has to learn the differences of 
human souls — they are so many and of such a nature, and 
from them come the differences between man and man — he will 
then proceed to divide speeches into their different classes. 
Such and such persons, he will say, are affected by this or that 
kind of speech in this or that way, and he will tell you why ; 
he must have a theoretical notion of them first, and then he 
must see them in action, and be able to follow them with all 
his senses about him, or he will never get beyond the precepts 
of his masters. But when he is able to say what persons are 
persuaded by what arguments, and recognize the indi- 
vidual about whom he used to theorize as actually pres- 2 7 2,3 
ent to him, and say to himself, " This is he and this is 
the sort of man who ought to have that argument applied to 
him in order to convince him of this ; " when he has attained 
the knowledge of all this, and knows also when he should speak 
and when he should abstain from speaking, and when he 
should make use of pithy sayings, pathetic appeals, aggravated 
effects, and all the other figures of speech ; when, I say, he 
knows the times and seasons of all these things, then, and not 
till then, he is perfect and a consummate master of his art ; but 
if he fail in any of these points, whether in speaking or teach- 
ing or writing them, and says that he speaks by rules of art, 
he who denies this has the better of him. Well, the teacher 
will say, is this, Phsedrus and Socrates, your account of the 
art of rhetoric, or am I to look for another ? 

Phcedr. He must take this, Socrates, for there is no possi- 



170 PLATO THE TEACHER 

bility of another, and yet the creation of such an art is not 
easy. 

[Now some say that this is a long rough road to the art of 
rhetoric, and that there is a shorter and easier one which 
ought to be followed. Their argument is like this : Where 
goodness or justice is the question at issue, the rhetorician has 
no need of truth. In the law courts, for example, men care 
nothing about truth, but only about conviction. Now con- 
viction is based on probability, and facts ought to be with- 
held. It is the business of either party to invent lies which the 
other cannot refute. Therefore the orator should say good-by 
to truth and give his whole attention to probability.] 

These and others like them are the precepts of the doctors 
of the art. Am I not right, Phsedrus ? 

Phcedr. Certainly. 

Soc. I cannot help feeling that this is a wonderfully myste- 
rious art which Tisias has discovered, or whoever the gentleman 
was, or whatever his name or country may have been, who 
was the discoverer. Shall we say a word to him or not ? 

Phcedr. What shall we say to him ? 

Soc. Let us tell him that, before he appeared, you and I 
were saying that probability was engendered in the minds of 
the many by the likeness of the truth, and were setting forth 
that he who knew the truth would always know how best to 
discover the resemblances of the truth. If he has anything fur- 
ther to say about the art of speaking we should like to hear 
him ; but if not, we are satisfied with our own view, that unless 
a man estimates the various characters of his hearers and is 
able to divide existences into classes and to sum them up in 
single ideas, he will never be a skillful rhetorician even within 
the limits of human power. And this art he will not attain 
without a great deal of trouble, which a good man ought to 
undergo, not for the sake of speaking and acting before men, 
but in order that he may be able to say what is acceptable to 
God and in all things to act acceptably to him as far as in 
him lies ; for there is a saying of wiser men than our- 
selves, that a man of sense should not try to please his 
fellow -servants (at least this should not be his principal ob- 
ject) but his good and noble masters, so that, if the way is 



PILEDRUS 171 

long and circuitous, marvel not at this ; for, where the end is 
great, there the way may be permitted to be long, but not for 
lesser ends such as yours. Truly, the argument may say, Tis- 
ias, that if you do not mind going so far, rhetoric has a fair 
beginning in this. 

Phcedr. I think, Socrates, that this is admirable, if only 
practicable. 

Soc. But even to fail in an honorable object is honorable. 

Phcedr. True. 

Soc. I think that enough has been said of a true and false 
art of speaking. 

Phcedr. Certainly. 

Soc. But there is something yet to be said of propriety 
and impropriety of writing. 

Phcedr. Yes. 

Soc. Do you know how you can speak or act about rhet- 
oric in a manner which will be acceptable to God ? 

Phcedr. No, indeed. Do you ? 

Soc. I have heard a tradition of antiquity, whether true 
or not, antiquity only knows. If we had the truth ourselves, 
do you think that we should care much about the opinions of 
men ? 

Phcedr. That is a question which needs no answer ; but I 
wish that you would tell me what you say that you have 
heard. 

Soc. At the Egyptian city of Naucratis, 56 there was a famous 
old god, whose name was Theuth 57 ; the bird which is called 
the Ibis was sacred to him, and he was the inventor of many 
arts, such as arithmetic and calculation and geometry and as- 
tronomy and draughts and dice, but his great discovery was 
the use of letters. Now in those days Thamus 58 was the king 
of the whole of Upper Egypt, which is the district surround- 
ing that great city which is called by the Hellenes Egyptian 
Thebes, 59 and they call the god himself Ammon. To him 
came Theuth and showed his inventions, desiring that the 
other Egyptians might be allowed to have the benefit of them ; 
he went through them, and Thamus inquired about their sev- 

56 Naucratis (nau-kra'tis) : a city in the Delta of Egypt, on a branch of the 
Nile. 
"Theuth (thuth). 

58 Thamus (tha'mus). 

59 Thebes (thebz) : the ancient capital of Upper Egypt. 



172 PLATO THE TEACHER 

eral uses, and praised some of them and censured others, as he 
approved or disapproved of them. There would be no use in 
repeating all that Thamus said to Theuth in praise or blame 
of the various arts. But when they came to letters, This, said 
Theuth, will make the Egyptians wiser and give them better 
memories ; for this is the cure of forgetfulness and of folly. 
Thamus replied : O most ingenious Theuth, he who has the 
gift of invention is not always the best judge of the utility or 
inutility of his own inventions to the users of them. 
75 And in this instance a paternal love of your own child 
has led you to say what is not the fact ; for this invention of 
yours will create forgetfulness in the learners' souls, because 
they will not use their memories ; they will trust to the exter- 
nal written characters and not remember of themselves. You 
have found a specific, not for memory but for reminiscence, 
and you give your disciples only the pretence of wisdom ; they 
will be hearers of many things and will have learned nothing ; 
they will appear to be omniscient and will generally know 
nothing ; they will be tiresome, having the reputation of 
knowledge without the reality. 

Phcedr. Yes, Socrates, you can easily invent tales of 
Egypt, or of any other country that you like. 

Soc. There was a tradition in the temple of Dodona ^ that 
oaks first gave prophetic utterances. The men of that day, 
unlike in their simplicity to young philosophy, deemed that if 
they heard the truth even from " oak or rock," that was 
enough for them ; whereas, you seem to think not of the 
truth but of the speaker, and of the country from which the 
truth comes. 

Phcedr. I acknowledge the justice of your rebuke; and I 
think that the Theban is right in his view about letters. 

Soc. He would be a simple person, and quite without un- 
derstanding of the oracles Thamus and Ammon, who should 
leave in writing or receive in writing any art under the idea 
that the written word would be intelligible or certain ; or 
who deemed that writing was at all better than knowledge 
and recollection of the same matters. 

Phcedr. That is most true. 

60 Dodona (d5-do'na) : a city in Epirus (epi'rus), a country of ancient 
Greece. Dodona was the seat of a very ancient and celebrated oracle of 
the same name. Responses were said to be given in the rustling of leaves. 



PHLEDRUS 173 

Soc. I cannot help feeling, Phaedrus, that writing is unfort- 
unately like painting; for the creations of the painter have the 
attitude of life, and yet if you ask them a question they pre- 
serve a solemn silence. And the same may be said of speeches. 
You would imagine that they had intelligence, but if you 
want to know anything and put a question to one of them, the 
speaker always gives one unvarying answer. And when they 
have been once written down they are tossed about anywhere 
among those who do and among those who do not understand 
them. And they have no reticences or proprieties towards 
different classes of persons ; and, if they are unjustly assailed 
or abused, their parent is needed to protect his offspring, for 
they cannot protect or defend themselves. 

Phcedr. That again is most true. 

Soc. May we not imagine another kind of writing or 
speaking far better than this is, and having far greater power, 
— which is one of the same family, but lawfully begot- , 
ten ? Let us see what his origin is. 

Phcedr. Who is he, and what do you mean about his 
origin ? 

Soc. I am speaking of an intelligent writing which is graven 
in the soul of him who has learned, and can defend itself, and 
knows when to speak and when to be silent. 

Phcedr. You mean the word of knowledge which has a liv- 
ing soul, and of which the written word is properly no more 
than an image? 

Soc. Yes, of course that is what I mean. And I wish that 
you would let me ask you a question : Would a husbandman, 
who is a man of sense, take the seeds, which he values and 
which he wishes to be fruitful, and in sober earnest plant 
them during the heat of summer, in some garden of Adonis, 61 
that he may rejoice when he sees them in eight days appearing 
in beauty (at least he does that, if at all, only as the show of a 
festival) ; but those about which he is in earnest he sows in fit- 

61 Adonis (a-dd'nis) : a beautiful youth greatly beloved by Aphrodite. 
Her grief was so great at his death that he was allowed to return to earth 
and spend half of every year with her. His coming was attended by the 
springing up of grass and flowers, and the singing of birds, and was symbol- 
ical of the return of vegetation in spring after six months of hiding in the 
ground. The Greek women celebrated yearly a festival in honor of Adonis, 
and for this occasion cresses and other such quick-growing herbs were grown 
in pots. (L. and S.) 



174 PLATO THE TEACHER 

ting soil, and practices husbandry, and is satisfied if in eight 
months they arrive at perfection? 

Phcedr. Yes, Socrates, that will be his way when he is in 
earnest ; he will do the other, as you say, only as an amuse- 
ment. 

Soc. And can we suppose that he who knows the just and 
good and honorable has less understanding in reference to his 
own seeds than the husbandman ? 

Phcedr. Certainly not. 

Soc. Then he will not seriously incline to write them in 
water with pen and ink, or in dumb characters which have 
not a word to say for themselves and cannot adequately ex- 
press the truth ? 

Phcedr. No, that is not likely. 

Soc. No, that is not likely, — in the garden of letters he will 
plant them only as an amusement, or he will write them down 
as memorials against the forgetfulness of old age, to be treas- 
ured by him and his equals when they, like him, have one foot 
In the grave ; and he will rejoice in beholding their tender 
growth ; and they will be his pastime while others are water- 
ing the garden of their souls with banqueting and the like. 

Phcedr. A pastime, Socrates, as noble as the other is igno- 
ble, when a man is able to pass time merrily in the representa- 
tion of justice and the like. 

Soc. True, Phaedrus. But nobler far is the serious pursuit 
of the dialectician, who finds a congenial soul, and then with 
knowledge engrafts and sows words which are able to help 
themselves and him who planted them, and are not un- 
fruitful, but have in them seeds which may bear fruit in 
other natures, nurtured in other ways, — making the seed ever- 
lasting and the possessors happy to the utmost extent of human 
happiness. 

Phcedr. Yes, indeed, that is far nobler. 

Soc. And now, Phaedrus, having agreed upon the premises 
we may decide about the conclusion. 

Phcedr. About what conclusion? 

Soc. About Lysias, whom we censured, and his art of writ- 
ing, and his discourses, and the rhetorical skill or want of skill 
which was shown in them; for he brought us to this point. 
And I think that we are now pretty well informed about the 
nature of art and its opposite. 



PH.EDRUS 175 

Phcedr. Yes, I think with you ; but I wish that you would 
repeat what was said. 

Soc. Until a man knows the truth of the several particulars 
of which he is writing or speaking, and is able to define them 
as they are, and having defined them again to divide them 
until they can be no longer divided, and until in like manner 
he is able to discern the nature of the soul and discover the 
different modes of discourse which are adapted to different 
natures, and to arrange and dispose them in such a way that 
the simple form of speech may be addressed to the simpler 
nature, and the complex and composite to the complex nature 
— until he has accomplished all this, he will be unable to 
handle arguments according to rules of art, as far as their nat- 
ure allows them to be subjected to art, either for the purpose 
of teaching or persuading ; that is the view which is implied 
in the whole preceding argument. 

Phcedr. Yes, that was our view, certainly. 

Soc. Secondly, as to the justice of the censure which was 
passed on speaking or writing discourses — did not our pre- 
vious argument show — 

Phcedr. Show what ? 

Soc. That whether Lysias or any other writer that ever was 
or will be, whether private man or statesman, writes a political 
treatise in his capacity of legislator, and fancies that there is a 
great certainty and clearness in his performance, the fact of 
his writing as he does is only a disgrace to him, whatever men 
may say. For entire ignorance about the nature of justice and 
injustice, and good and evil, and the inability to distinguish 
the dream from the reality, cannot in truth be otherwise than 
disgraceful to him, even though he have the applause of the 
whole world. 

Phcedr. Certainly. 

Soc. But he who thinks that in the written word there is 
necessarily much which is not serious, and that neither poetry 
nor prose, spoken or written, are of any great value — if, 
like the compositions of the rhapsodes, 62 they are only 2 ^ 
recited in order to be believed, and not with any view to 
criticism or instruction ; and who thinks that even the best of 
them are but a reminiscence of what we know, and that only 

62 A class of wandering minstrels, who earned their living by reciting the 
poems of Homer and other epics. 



176 PLATO THE TEACHER 

in principles of justice and goodness and nobility taught and 
communicated orally and written in the soul, which is the true 
way of writing, is there clearness and perfection and seriousness ; 
and that such principles are like legitimate offspring; being, 
in the first place, that which the man finds in his own bosom ; 
secondly, the brethren and descendants and relations of this 
which has been duly implanted in the souls of others ; and 
who cares for them and no others — this is the right sort of 
man ; and you and I, Phsedrus, would pray that we may be- 
come like him. 

Phcedr. That is most assuredly my desire and prayer. 

Soc. And now the play is played out ; and of rhetoric 
enough. Go and tell Lysias that to the fountain and school 
of the Nymphs we went down, and were bidden by them to 
convey a message to him and to other composers of speeches 
— to Homer and other writers of poems, whether set to music 
or not. And to Solon 63 and the writers of political docu- 
ments, which they term laws, we are to say that if their com- 
positions are based on knowledge of the truth, and they can 
defend or prove them, when they are put to the test, by spoken 
arguments, which leave their writings poor in comparison of 
them, then they are not only poets, orators, legislators, but 
worthy of a higher name. 

PJicedr. What name is that ? 

Soc. Wise, I may not call them; for that is a great name 
which belongs to God only, — lovers of wisdom or philosophers 
is their modest and befitting title. 

Phcedr. Very good. 

Soc. And he who cannot rise above his own compilations 
and compositions, which he has been long patching and piec- 
ing, adding some and taking away some, may be justly called 
poet or speech-maker or law-maker. 

Phcedr. Certainly. 

Soc. Now go and tell this to your companion. 

Phcedr. But there is also a friend of yours who ought not 
to be forgotten. 

Soc. Who is that ? 

Phcedr, Isocrates 64 the fair. 

63 Solon (638-558 B.C.) : a celebrated Athenian statesman and law-giver. 

64 Isocrates (i-sok'ra-tez, 436-338 B.C.): a Greek orator and teacher of 
rhetoric. He came under the influence of Socrates, but never belonged to 
the circle of his most intimate friends and disciples. 



PH/EDRUS 177 

Soc. What of him ? 

Phcedr. What message shall we send to him ? 

Soc. Isocrates is still young, Phaedrus; but I am ' 
willing to risk a prophecy concerning him. 

Phcedr. What would you prophesy ? 

Soc. I think that he has a genius which soars above the 
orations of Lysias, and he has a character of a finer mould. 
My impression of him is that he will marvelously improve as 
he grows older, and that all former rhetoricians will be as 
children in comparison of him. And I believe that he will 
not be satisfied with this, but that some divine impulse will 
lead him to things higher still. For there is an element of 
philosophy in his nature. This is the message which comes 
from the gods dwelling in this place, and which I will myself 
deliver to Isocrates, who is my delight; and do you give the 
other to Lysias, who is yours. 

Phcedr. I will ; and now as the heat is abated let us depart. 

Soc. Should we not offer up a prayer first of all to the local 
deities ? 

Phcedr. By all means. 

Soc. Beloved Pan, 65 and all ye other gods who haunt this 
place, give me beauty in the inward soul ; and may the out- 
ward and inward man be at one. May I reckon the wise to 
be the wealthy, and may I have such a quantity of gold as 
none but the temperate can carry. Anything more ? That 
prayer, I think, is enough for me. 

Phcedr. Ask the same for me, for friends should have all 
things in common. 

Soc. Let us go. 

65 Pan : god of woods and fields, of flocks and shepherds ; he dwelt in caves 
or forests, and wandered over mountains and valleys. 

12 



THE REPUBLIC 



INTRODUCTION 

I. The subject of the Republic is given in the dialogue as 
justice. Justice, as here used, may be described quite gener- 
ally as the right conduct of individual and social life. The 
conduct of life is held to be determined by the nature of the 
world in which we live and by the nature of man. 

II. We are said to live in two worlds. One of these is the 
world which is eternal, unchangeable, absolutely good, abso- 
lutely beautiful, absolutely one, in all ways absolutely per- 
fect. It is called the world of being, world of essence, the 
real world, the one, the good, the absolute, and other such 
names. The soul is said to belong by its highest nature to 
the eternal world, and by pure reflection it may know the 
real world as it is. This is the only true knowledge, the 
only true guide for the conduct of individual and social life. 
While we are on earth we are, through our bodies, in connec- 
tion with the world of imperfect things. The knowledge 
which we have of this world through our bodily senses is 
not true knowledge, and the life of the individual or state is 
corrupted in so far as it is guided by such pseudo-knowledge. 
For a further discussion of this point see General Introduc- 
tion, p. xxiv, For the several grades of knowledge, from 
total ignorance to pure science, see especially V., 476, to 
VII., 521. 

III. The Nature of Man : The life of man is said to have 
three principles, (a) the appetitive principle which impels him 

181 



182 PLATO THE TEACHER 

toward the satisfaction of bodily desires; (b) the spirited 
principle which impels him to fight ; and (c) the rational 
principle which tends to control all his actions in accordance 
with the absolute truth. 

The virtues which the soul should possess are accordingly 
as follows : (1) Courage : " He is deemed courageous who, 
having the element of passion working within him, preserves 
in the midst of pain and pleasure the notion of danger which 
reason requires." (2) Wisdom : " He is wise who has in 
him that little part which rules and gives orders, that part be- 
ing suffered to have a knowledge of what is for the interest 
of each and all of the three parts." (3) Temperance : " He 
is temperate who has these same elements in friendly har- 
mony, in whom the one ruling principle of reason, and the 
two subject ones of spirit and desire, are equally agreed that 
reason ought to rule and do not rebel." (4) Justice : Jus- 
tice is the perfect harmony of the other three virtues. " The 
just man does not permit the several elements within him 
to interfere with one another or any of them to do the 
work of the others ; but he sets in order his own inner life 
and is his own master and at peace with himself ; and when 
he has bound together the three principles within him which 
may be compared to the middle, higher, and lower divisions 
of the scale and the intermediate intervals, — when he has 
bound together all these and is no longer many, but has be- 
come one entirely temperate and perfectly adjusted nature," 
then he will truly distinguish justice and injustice, and will act 
accordingly. In a word, Justice is health — the harmonious or- 
ganic unity of all the elements of man's life in accordance 
with the absolute truth. 

IV. The Nature of the State : The true nature of the State 
corresponds to the nature of the individual man. There are 
three classes of persons in the State, the laborers, the soldiers, 
and the statesmen. The proper virtue for the statesmen is 



INTRODUCTION 1 83 

wisdom ; for the soldiers courage ; for all classes temperance. 
Where all classes have their proper virtues and occupations, 
the State has the virtue of justice, or perfect health. On III. 
and IV. see Book IV. especially 428 to close. 

V. Education : Since the State as a whole and the lives of 
all the citizens can be rightly determined only by the abso- 
lute truth, and since the absolute truth or knowledge of the 
eternal world is attained only by the philosophers, the phi- 
losophers alone are fit to rule the State. A question of pri- 
mary importance is therefore the selection and education of 
those who are to become the philosopher-statesmen. Very 
few, Plato holds, are fit by nature for this high office ; for the 
necessary perfection of body and mind, especially the right 
mingling of gentleness with spirit, are rarely found in the 
same individual. When fit children are found, they should 
be given the education proper for a guardian, to whatever 
class their parents belong. 

The elementary education of these children should consist 
of music and gymnastics. With Plato, music includes poetry, 
and, in a wider sense, all the arts. (See Republic, II., Note 
1 7.) The essential thing about the elementary education is 
that all things therein shall be determined by the philosopher 
in accordance with the absolute truth. The greater part of 
the literature and other art of Greece is condemned by Plato, 
because its beauty is not a beauty which is in harmony with 
the absolute good. 

At a later stage (20 years), the youth who is preparing 
to be a philosopher-statesman should study the pure abstract 
sciences of arithmetic, plane geometry, solid geometry, as- 
tronomy, and musical harmony. Only after this preparation, 
and at the age of thirty, is he fit to begin the study of pure 
philosophy or dialectic. After pursuing this subject for five 
years, he enters active public life for fifteen years. After the 
age of fifty he returns to the study of philosophy for the re- 



1 84 PLATO THE TEACHER 

mainder of his life, with occasional re-entrance into active 
life as emergencies may require. A State governed by such 
men in accordance with absolute truth is, according to Plato, 
ideally good, and every citizen therein will be better and hap- 
pier than under any other conditions ; for every citizen will 
be doing, in obedience to the wise rulers, what he is best fitted 
to do for himself and for others, and will be receiving from 
all others that which is his due. See II., 374 to end of III., 
VI., VII., and X., 595 to 608. 

VI. The decline of the State : The State will be preserved 
as it should be only as long as it is wholly guided by the ab- 
solute truth, through the philosophers. If men whose high- 
est principle is love of honor, succeed those whose highest 
principle is obedience to the truth, the next generation will 
likely put love of money in place of love of honor, the next 
will put love of pleasure in place of money, and presently all 
virtue and health will give place to the wildest license, and so 
at last, to general ruin of State and of the people. 

The several forms of government (to each of which there 
corresponds a certain kind of man) are named and described 
as follows: (1.) Aristocracy: Literally, government by the 
best. With Plato, this meant government by the philoso- 
phers. (2.) Timocracy: Literally, government by honor. 
With Plato, this meant government by those whose highest 
principle is soldierly ambition, and who are ignorant of and 
indifferent to true wisdom. (3.) Oligarchy : Literally, gov- 
ernment by the few. With Plato, this meant government by 
those whose highest virtues are those involved in the acquisi- 
tion of wealth, and who are indifferent to true wisdom and 
to soldierly honor. (4.) Democracy : Literally, government 
by the common people. With Plato, this meant government 
by the mob whose highest desire is license regardless of true 
wisdom, honor, or the virtues that lead to wealth. (5.) Tyr- 
anny : Literally, government by one absolute ruler. With 



INTRODUCTION 1 85 

Plato, this meant government by one man who has absolute 
power over his subjects, and who uses this power solely for 
his own lowest self-interest, without regard to wisdom or 
honor, and without regard to the material prosperity or the 
desires of his people. See VIII. and IX. 

VII. Virtue and happiness: As already stated, virtue is 
health, the harmonious organic unity of all the elements of 
man's life in accordance with absolute truth. Every breach 
of virtue is a breach of health. Vice is disease. Vice can 
appear to be more pleasurable than virtue only for a little 
time. The wages of sin are always quickly misery and ruin. 
The virtuous soul, on the contrary, is completely fortified 
against real harm or unhappiness. It is at one with itself and 
at one with God. It has the joy which springs from perfect 
health, and it has that joy not only in this life but in that 
which is to come. See IV., 445, IX., 576 to 581 and X., 608 
to close. 

Note. — Most of the first book of the Republic is given up 
to an argument between Socrates, Thrasymachus, and others, 
in which no conclusions satisfactory to any one are reached. 
Here, as in other dialogues, Socrates sometimes appears to be 
as sophistical as his opponents. This part of the Republic is 
probably to be regarded as a dramatic portrayal of the way 
in which the Sophists dealt with questions. The serious con- 
sideration of justice in the individual and State begins with 
the second book. 



THE REPUBLIC 

BOOK I 

PERSONS OF THE DIALOGUE.* 

Socrates, who is the narrator. Cephalus. 

Glaucon. Thrasymachus. 

Adeimantus. Cleitophon. 

polemarchus. 

And others who are mute auditors. 

The scene is laid in the house of Cephalus at the Piraeus ; and the whole 
discourse is narrated the day after it actually took place to Timaeus, 
Hermocrates, Critias,* and a nameless person, who all reappear in the 
Timaeus. 

I went down to the Piraeus 3 yesterday with Glaucon the 
son of Ariston, that I might offer up a prayer to the goddess ; 
and also because I wanted to see in what manner they would 

1 Glaucon (glau'kon) : brother of Plato. He is said to have written a num- 
ber of dialogues, but none are extant. 

Adeimantus (Sd'i-man'tus) : brother of Plato ; mentioned in Apology, 34 ; 
little is known of him beyond the representation in this dialogue. 

Polemarchus (pol'e-mar'kus) : son of Cephalus, and brother of Lysias, 
the orator. The brothers owned a shield factory and amassed great wealth, 
on account of which they were seized by the Thirty Tyrants. Lysias escaped, 
but Polemarchus was forced, without trial, to drink the hemlock. 

Cephalus (sefa-lus) : a resident alien from Syracuse. "We are to think 
of Cephalus, not as the Athenian aristocrat, but, rather as the cultivated 
manufacturer or merchant prince, residing, no doubt, in a good house, but 
in a commercial or industrial quarter. He accepted, we are told, the bur- 
dens of an Athenian citizen, and lived for thirty years, unharmmg and un- 
harmed, under the popular government." — Bosanquet. 

Thrasymachus (thra-sym'a-kus) : a native of Chalcedon (kal-se'don), a 
Greek city on the Bosphorus. He was a Sophist, and a famous teacher of 
rhetoric. He is mentioned in the Phaedrus. 

Cleitophon (kll'to-fon) : son of Aristonymus (aVfs-ton'y-mus) ; not men- 
tioned elsewhere by Plato. 

2 Timaeus (ti-me'us). Hermocrates (her-mok'ra-tez). Critias (krit'i-as). 

3 Piraeus (pi-re'us) : the most important of the harbors of Athens, situated 
about five miles southwest of Athens, and connected with that city by the 
Long Walls. Many foreigners resided there. 

IS7 



1 88 PLATO THE TEACHER 

celebrate the festival of Bendis, 4 which was a new thing. I 
was delighted with the procession of the inhabitants ; this, 
however, was equalled or even exceeded in beauty by 
Steph. t k at f t | ie T/hracians. When we had finished our 
prayers and the spectacle was over, we turned in the 
direction of the city ; and at that instant, Polemarchus the son 
of Cephalus, who had caught sight of us at a distance as we 
were departing homewards, told his servant to run and bid us 
wait for him. The servant took hold of me by the cloak 
behind, and said : Polemarchus desires you to wait. 

I turned round, and asked him where his master was. 

He is coming, said the youth, if you will only wait. 

Certainly we will, said Glaucon ; and in a few minutes Pole- 
marchus appeared, and with him Adeimantus, Glaucon's 
brother, Niceratus the son of Nicias, 5 and several others who 
had been at the procession. 

Polemarchus said to me : I perceive, Socrates, that you and 
your companion are already on your way to the city. 

That is a good guess, I said. 

But do you see, he said, how many we are? 

I do. 

And are you stronger than all these ? for if not, you will 
have to remain where you are. 

May there not be yet another possibility, I said, that we may 
persuade you to let us go ? 

But can you persuade us, if we refuse to listen to you ? he 
said. 

No indeed, replied Glaucon. 

Then we are not going to listen ; of that you may be as- 
sured. 

Adeimantus added : Has no one told you that there is to 
be an equestrian torch-race in the evening in honor of the 
, 28 goddess? 

d Indeed, that is a novelty, I replied. Will the horsemen 

carry torches and pass them to one another during the race ? 

4 Bendis (ben'dis) : a Thracian goddess, sometimes identified with the Greek 
Artemis, goddess of the moon and the chase. The worship of Bendis was 
introduced into this part of Greece by Thracian aliens, residing at the 
Piraeus. The public festival, the Bendideia (ben'df-di'a), instituted in 
honor of Bendis, was celebrated for the first time upon the occasion to 
which Socrates here refers. 

6 Niceratus (ni-ser'a-tus). Nicias (nis'i-as). 



THE REPUBLIC 1 89 

Yes, he said ; and there will also be a festival at night 
which is well worth seeing. If we rise from supper in good 
time we shall see this, and we shall find youths enough there 
with whom we may discourse. Stay then, and do not be per- 
verse. 

Glaucon said : I suppose that we must stay. 

Well, as you please, I replied. 

Accordingly we went with Polemarchus to his house ; and 
there we found his brothers Lysias 6 and Euthydemus, 7 and with 
them Thrasymachus the Chalcedonian, Charman tides the Pae- 
anian, 8 and Cleitophon the son of Aristonymus. There too 
was their father Cephalus, whom I had not seen for a long 
time, and I thought him very much aged. He was seated on 
a cushioned chair, and had a garland on his head, for he had 
been holding a sacrifice 9 in the court ; and we sat down by 
him on other chairs, which were arranged in a circle around 
him. He welcomed me eagerly, and then he said : — 

You don't come to see me, Socrates, as often as you ought. 
For if I were able to go to you I would not ask you to come 
to me. But at my age I can hardly get to the city, and 
therefore you ought to come oftener to the Piraeus. For, in- 
deed, I find that at my time of life, as the pleasures and de- 
lights of the body fade away, the love of discourse grows upon 
me. I only wish therefore that you would come oftener, and 
be with your young friends here, and make yourself altogether 
at home with us. 

I replied : There is nothing which I like better, Cephalus, 
than conversing with aged men like yourself; for I regard 
them as travellers who have gone a journey which I too 
may have to go, and of whom I ought to inquire, whether the 
way is smooth and easy, or rugged and difficult. And this is 
a question which I should like to ask of you who have arrived 
at that time which the poets call the ' ' threshold of old age, ' ' 
— Is life harder towards the end, or what report do you give 
of it ? 

I will tell you, Socrates, he said, what my own feeling is. 
Old men flock together ; they are birds of a feather, as the 

6 See Phaedrus, note 3. 

7 Euthydemus, not the one for whom the dialogue Euthydemus is named. 

8 Charmantides (kar-man'tf-dez). Paeania (pe-a'ni-a) : a deme of Attica. 

9 Probably an act of private worship. It was customary among the 
Greeks for one who took part in sacrifice to wear a wreath. 



190 PLATO THE TEACHER 

proverb says ; and at our meetings the tale of my acquaint- 
ance commonly is — I cannot eat, I cannot drink; the pleasures 
of youth and love are fled away: there was a good 
time once, but that is gone, and now life is no longer 
life. Some of them lament over the slights which are put 
upon them by their relations, and then they tell you plaintively 
of how many evils old age is the cause. But I do not believe, 
Socrates, that the blame is where they say ; for if old age 
were the cause, I too being old, and every other old man, 
would have felt the same. This, however, is not my own ex- 
perience, nor that of others whom I have known. How well 
I remember the aged poet Sophocles, 10 when in answer to the 
question, How does love suit with age, Sophocles, — are 
you still the man you were ? Peace, he replied ; most gladly 
have I escaped that, and I feel as if I had escaped from a mad 
and furious master. That saying of his has often come into 
my mind since, and seems to me still as good as at the time 
when I heard him. For certainly old age has a great sense of 
calm and freedom ; when the passions relax their hold, then, 
as Sophocles says, you have escaped from the control not of 
one master only, but of many. And of these regrets, as well 
as of the complaint about relations, Socrates, the cause is to 
be sought, not in men's ages, but in their characters and tem- 
pers ; for he who is of a calm and happy nature will hardly 
feel the pressure of age, but he who is of an opposite disposi- 
tion will find youth and age equally a burden. 

I was delighted at his words, and wanting to draw him out 
I went on to say : Yes, Cephalus ; but I suspect that people 
in general do not believe you when you say this ; they think 
that old age sits lightly upon you, not because of your happy 
disposition, but because you are rich, and wealth is well known 
to be a great comforter. 

That is true, he replied ; they do not believe me : and there 
is something in what they say ; not, however, so much as 
they imagine. I might answer them as Themistocles ll 
answered the Seriphian 12 who was abusing him and say- 
ing that he was famous, not for his own merits but because 

10 See Phsedrus, note 50. 

11 Themistocles (the-mfs'to-klez, 514 ? — B.C.): a great Athenian statesman. 

12 Seriphos (se-rl'fos) : a small island in the JEgesui Sea, colonized by 
Greeks. 



THE REPUBLIC 191 

he was an Athenian : "If you had been an Athenian and I a 
Seriphian, neither of us would have been famous." And to 
those who are not rich and are impatient of old age, the same 
reply may be made ; for neither can a good poor man lightly 
bear age, nor can a bad rich man ever be at peace with him- 
self. 

May I ask, Cephalus, whether you inherited or acquired the 
greater part of your wealth ? 

How much did I acquire, Socrates? he replied, — is that 
your question? Well, the property which Cephalus, my grand- 
father, originally inherited was nearly of the same value as my 
own is at present ; this he doubled and trebled, but my father 
Lysanias reduced below the original amount ; and I, who am 
neither a spender of money like the one, nor a gainer of 
money like the other, shall be satisfied if I leave my sons a 
little more than I received. 

That was why I asked you the question, I said, because I 
saw that you were not fond of money, which is a characteris- 
tic rather of those who have inherited their fortunes than of 
those who have acquired them ; for the latter have a second 
or extraordinary love of money as a creation of. their own, 
resembling the affection of authors for their own poems, 
or of parents for their children, besides that other love of 
money for the sake of use and enjoyment which is common 
to them and all men. And hence they are very bad company, 
for they talk about nothing but the praises of wealth. 

That is true, he said. 

Yes, that is very true, I said ; but may I ask you one more 
question ? which is this — What do you consider to be the 
greatest blessing which you have reaped from wealth ? 

Not one, he said, of which I could easily convince others. 
For let me tell you, Socrates, that when a man thinks himself 
to be near death he has fears and cares which never en- 
tered into his mind before ; the tales of a life below and , 

the punishment which is exacted there of deeds done here 
were a laughing matter to him once, but now he is haunted 
with the thought that they may be true : either because of 
the feebleness of age, or from the nearness of the prospect, he 
seems to have a clearer view of the other world ; suspicions and 
alarms crowd upon him, and he begins to reckon up in his 
own mind what wrongs he has done to others. And when he 



192 PLATO THE TEACHER 

finds that the sum of his transgressions is great, he will many 
a time like a child, start up in his sleep for fear, and he is filled 
with dark forebodings. But he who is conscious of no sin 
has in age a sweet hope which, as Pindar 13 charmingly says, 
is a kind nurse to him. 

" Hope," as he says, " cherishes the soul of him who lives in holiness 
and righteousness, and is the nurse of his age and the companion of his 
journey — hope, which is mightiest to sway the eager soul of man. " 

That is an expression of his which wonderfully delights me. 
And this is the great blessing of riches, I do not say to every 
man, but to a good man, that he has had no occasion to de- 
ceive another, either intentionally or unintentionally ; and 
when he departs to the other world he is not in any apprehen- 
sion about offerings due to the gods or debts which he owes 
to men. Now the possession of wealth has a great deal to do 
with this; and therefore I say that, setting one thing against 
another, this, in my opinion, is to a man of sense the greatest 
of the many advantages which wealth has to give. 

That is excellent, Cephalus, I replied ; but then is justice 
no more than this — to speak the truth and pay your debts ? 
And are there not exceptions even to this? If I have received 
arms from a friend when in his right mind, and he asks for 
them when he is not in his right mind, ought I to give 
them back to him ? No one would say that I ought, any 
more than they would say that I ought always to speak the 
truth to one who is in that condition. 

You are quite right, he replied. 

But then, I said, speaking the truth and paying your debts 
is not a correct definition of justice. 

And yet, said Polemarchus, that is the definition which has 
the authority of Simonides. 14 

I fear, said Cephalus, that I must look to the sacrifices ; and 
therefore I now take leave of this argument, which I bequeath 
to you and Polemarchus. 

Is not Polemarchus your heir ? I said. 

To be sure, he answered, and went away laughing to the 
sacrifices. 

13 See Euthydemus, note 22. 

14 See Protagoras, note 26. The authority of the greater poets was re- 
vered almost as we revere that of the Bible. 



THE REPUBLIC 193 

[Socrates and Polemarchus enter into a discussion of the 
definition of justice. They examine the view mentioned 
above that justice consists in speaking the truth and paying 
one's debts. They finally agree that this definition is un- 
satisfactory and cannot be the true one.] 

Several times in the middle of our discourse Thrasymachus 
had made an attempt to get the argument into his own hands 
by interrupting us, and had been put down by the rest of the 
company, who wanted to hear the end. But when I had done 
speaking and there was a pause, he could no longer hold his 
peace; and, gathering himself up, he came at us like a wild 
beast seeking to devour us, and Polemarchus and I quaked 
with fear. 

What folly has possessed you, Socrates ? he said, with a roar. 
Why do you drop down at one another's feet in this silly 
way ? I say that if you want to know what justice really is, 
you should answer and not ask, and you shouldn't pride your- 
self in refuting others, but have your own answer ; for there 
is many a one who can ask and cannot answer. And don't 
tell me that justice is duty or advantage or profit or gain or 
interest, for that sort of watery stuff won't do for me ; I must 
and will have a precise answer. 

I was panic-stricken at these words, and trembled at the 
very look of him ; and I verily believe that if I had not 
caught his eye first, I should have been deprived of utterance : 
but now, when 1 saw his fury rising, I had the presence of 
mind to keep my eye upon him, and this enabled me to reply 
to him. 

Thrasymachus, I said, with a quiver, have mercy on us. 
Our error, if we were guilty of any error, was certainly unin- 
tentional; and therefore you, in your wisdom, should have 
pity upon us, and not be angry with us. If we were seeking 
for gold, you would not imagine that we were pretending only, 
or dropping down, as you say, out of foolish complaisance, at 
one another's feet. Do not imagine, then, that we are pre- 
tending to seek for justice, which is a treasure far more pre- 
cious than gold. 

How characteristic of Socrates ! he replied, with a ' 
bitter laugh ; that's your ironical way ! Did I not foresee — 
did I not tell you all that he would refuse to answer, and try 
13 



194 PLATO THE TEACHER 

irony or any other shift in order that he might avoid answer- 
ing? 

You are a philosopher, Thrasymachus, I replied, and well 
know that if you ask what numbers make up twelve, taking 
care to prohibit the person whom you ask from answering 
twice six, or three times four, or six times two, or four times 
three, " for this sort of nonsense won't do for me," then 
obviously, if that is your way of putting the question to him, 
neither he nor any one can answer. And suppose he were 
to say, " Thrasymachus, what do you mean ? And if the true 
answer to the question is one of these numbers which you in- 
terdict, am I to say some other number which is not the right 
one? — is that your meaning?" How would you answer 
him? 

Yes, said he ; but how remarkably parallel the two cases 
are ! 

Very likely they are, I replied ; but even if they are not, 
and only appear to be parallel to the person who is asked, can 
he to whom the question is put avoid saying what he thinks, 
even though you and I join in forbidding him ? 

Well, then, I suppose you are going to make one of the in- 
terdicted answers? 

I dare say that I may, notwithstanding the danger, if upon 
reflection I approve of any of them. 

But what if I give you a new and better answer, he said, 
than any of these ? What do you deserve to have done to 
you? 

Done to me ! I can but suffer the penalty of ignorance ; 
and the penalty is to learn from the wise — and that is what I 
deserve to have done to me. 

What, and no payment ! that's a pleasant notion 1 

I will pay when I have the money, I replied. 

But you have, Socrates, said Glaucon ; and you, Thrasym- 
achus, need be under no anxiety about money, for we will all 
make a contribution for Socrates. 

Yes, he replied, and I know what will happen ; Socrates 
will do as he always does — not answer, but take and pull the 
argument to pieces. 

Why, my good friend, I said, how can any one answer who 
knows, and says that he knows, just nothing; and who, even 
if he had some faint notions of his own, is told by a man of 



THE REPUBLIC 195 

authority not to utter them ? The natural thing is, that the 
speaker should be one who knows, like yourself; and I must 
earnestly request that you will kindly answer for the 338= 
edification of the company and of myself. 343 

Glaucon and the rest of the company joined in my request, 
and Thrasymachus, as any one might see, was really eager to 
speak ; for he thought that he had an excellent answer, and 
would distinguish himself. But at first he affected to in- 
sist on my answering; at length he consented to begin. Be- 
hold, he said, the wisdom of Socrates ; he refuses to teach 
himself, and goes about learning of others, to whom he never 
even says Thank you. 

That I learn of others, I replied, is quite true ; but that I 
am ungrateful I wholly deny. Money I have none, and there- 
fore I pay in praise, which is all I have ; and how ready I am 
to praise any one who speaks well you will very soon find out 
when you answer, for I expect that you will answer well. 

Listen, then, he said ; 1 proclaim that might is right, jus- 
tice the interest of the stronger. But why don't you praise 
me? 

Let me first understand you, I replied. 

[Socrates now puts a series of questions to Thrasymachus, 
and in answering Thrasymachus is led to admit statements 
which contradict his own definition of justice. When he 
finds himself cornered in the argument, he tries to escape 
by means of a long speech upon the advantages of injustice, 
as follows :] 

You fancy that the shepherd or neatherd fattens or tends 
the sheep or oxen with a view to their own good and not to 
the good of himself or his master; and you further imagine 
that the rulers of States, who are true rulers, never think of 
their subjects as sheep, and that they are not studying their 
own advantage day and night. O, no ; and so entirely astray 
are you in the very rudiments of justice and injustice as not 
even to know that justice and the just are in reality another's 
good ; that is to say, the interest of the ruler and stronger, and 
the loss of the subject and servant ; whereas the reverse holds 
in the case of injustice ; for the unjust is lord over the truly 
simple and just : he is the stronger, and his subjects do what 



I96 PLATO THE TEACHER 

is for his benefit, and minister to his happiness, which is very 
far from being their own. Consider further, most foolish 
Socrates, that the just is always a loser in comparison with the 
unjust. First of all in their private dealings : wherever the 
unjust is the partner of the just the conclusion of the affair al- 
ways is that the unjust man has more and the just less. Next, 
in their dealings with the State : when there is an income-tax, 
the just man will pay more and the unjust less on the same 
amount of income ; and when there is anything to be received 
the one gains nothing and the other much. Observe also 
that when they come into office, there is the just man neglect- 
ing his affairs and perhaps suffering other losses, but he will 
not compensate himself out of the public purse because he is 
just ; moreover he is hated by his friends and relations for 
refusing to serve them in unlawful ways. Now all this is re- 
versed in the case of the unjust man. I am speaking of in- 
justice on a large scale in which the advantage of the unjust is 
most apparent, and my meaning will be most clearly 
344 seen in that highest form of injustice the perpetrator of 
which is the happiest of men, as the sufferers or those who re- 
fuse to do injustice are the most miserable — I mean tyranny, 
which by fraud and force takes away the property of others, 
not retail but wholesale ; comprehending in one, things sacred 
as well as profane, private and public; for any one of which 
acts of wrong, if he were detected perpetrating them singly, 
he would be punished and incur great dishonor ; for they 
who are guilty of any of these crimes in single instances are 
called robbers of temples and man-stealers and burglars and 
swindlers and thieves. But when a man has taken away the 
money of the citizens and made slaves of them, then, instead 
of these dishonorable names, he is called happy and blessed, 
not only by the citizens but by all who hear of his having 
achieved the consummation of injustice. For injustice is cen- 
sured because the censurers are afraid of suffering, and not 
from any fear which they have of doing injustice. And thus, 
as I have shown, Socrates, injustice, when on a sufficient scale, 
has more strength and freedom and mastery than justice ; 
and, as I said at first, justice is the interest of the stronger, 
whereas injustice is a man's own profit and interest. 

Thrasymachus, when he had thus spoken, having, like a 
bath-man, deluged our ears with his words, had a mind to go 



THE REPUBLIC 197 

away. But the company would not allow this, and they com- 
pelled him to remain and defend his position ; and I myself 
added my own humble request that he would not leave us. 
Thrasymachus, I said to him, excellent man, how suggestive 
are your words ! And are you going away before you have 
fairly taught or learned whether they are true or not ? Is the 
attempt to determine the way of man's life such a small mat- 
ter in your eyes — the attempt to determine the way in which 
life may be passed by one of us to the greatest advantage ? 

My reason is that I do not agree with you, he replied. 

I should rather think, Thrasymachus, that you have no feel- 
ing about us, I said ; you don't seem to care whether we live 
better or worse from not knowing what you say you know. 
Prithee, friend, be obliging and impart your wisdom to us ; 
any benefit which is conferred on a large party such as this is 
will not be unrewarded. For my own part I frankly ad- 
mit that I am not convinced, and that I do not believe 3 ^|° 
injustice to be more gainful than justice, even if uncon- 
trolled and allowed to have free play. For, granting that 
there may be an unjust man who is able to commit injus- 
tice either by fraud or force, still this does not convince me 
of the superior advantage of injustice, and there may be others 
who are in the same predicament as myself. Perhaps we may 
be wrong; if so, you should convince us that we are mistaken 
in preferring justice to injustice. 

[In the discussion which follows, Thrasymachus again finds 
himself caught in the net of Socrates' questions and his argu- 
ment refuted. But they arrive at no conclusion satisfactory 
to Socrates for they have not yet defined justice. At the close 
of the discussion Thrasymachus says :] 

Let this, Socrates, be your entertainment at the Bendidea. 

And for this I am indebted to you, I said, now that you 
have grown gentle toward me, and have left off scolding. 
Nevertheless, I have not been well entertained ; but that was 
my own fault and not yours. I may liken myself to an epicure 
who snatches a taste of every dish which is successively 
brought to table before he has fairly enjoyed the one before ; 
and this has been the case with me. For before I discovered 
the nature of justice, I left that and proceeded to inquire 



I98 PLATO THE TEACHER 

whether justice was virtue and wisdom or evil and folly ; and 
then arose a further question about the comparative advan- 
tages of justice and injustice, and I could not refrain from 
passing on to that. And the result of all is that I know 
nothing at all. For I know not what justice is, and therefore 
I am not likely to know whether it is or is not a virtue, nor 
can I say whether the just is happy or unhappy. 



THE REPUBLIC 199 



BOOK II 

With these words I was thinking that I had made an end 
of the discussion ; but the end, in truth, proved to be only a 
beginning. For Glaucon, who is at all times the boldest 
of men, was dissatisfied at Thrasymachus' retirement ; he ' 
wanted to have the battle out. So he said to me : Socrates, 
do you wish really to persuade us, or only to seem to have 
persuaded us, that to be just is always better than to be un- 
just? 

I should wish really to persuade you, I replied, if I could. 

Then you certainly have not succeeded. And will you tell 
me, he said, how you would arrange goods ; is there not one 
class of goods which are desirable in themselves, and independ- 
ently of their results, as, for example, mere innocent pleasures 
and enjoyments, upon which nothing follows ? 

I think that there is such a class, I replied. 

What would you say to a second class of goods which are 
desirable not only in themselves, but also for their results, such 
as knowledge, sight, health ? 

To that likewise I assent. 

Thirdly, would you recognize a class of goods troublesome 
in themselves, yet profitable to us ; such, for example, as gym- 
nastic exercises, or the healing and treatment of disease, and 
the business of money-making, which no one would choose 
for their own sakes, but only for the sake of some reward or 
result of them ? 

There is, I said, this third class also. But why do you 
ask? 

Because I want to know in which of the three classes you 
would place justice? 

In the highest and noblest class, I replied, of goods, ~ 
which he who is to be happy desires for their own sakes 
as well as for their results. 

Then the many are of another mind ; they think that jus- 
tice is of the troublesome class of goods, which are to be pur- 
sued for the sake of rewards and reputation, but in themselves 
are rather to be avoided. 

I know, I said, that this is their doctrine, and this was also 



200 PLATO THE TEACHER 

the sentiment of Thrasymachus, when originally he blamed 
justice and praised injustice; but I appear not to understand 
him. 

I wish, he said, that you would hear me as well as him, and 
then I shall see whether you and I agree. For Thrasymachus 
seems to me to have been charmed by your voice, like a snake, 
sooner than he ought to have been ; and I am not yet satis- 
fied with the account which has been given of the nature of 
justice and injustice. Leaving the rewards and results of them, 
I want to know what they, either of them, are in themselves, 
and what power they have in the soul. If you please, then, I 
will revive the argument of Thrasymachus. And first I will 
speak of the nature and origin of justice according to the com- 
mon view of them. Secondly, I will show that all men who 
practice justice do so against their will, and not as a good, but 
as a necessity. And thirdly, I will maintain that there is rea- 
son in this, for in their view, the life of the unjust is better far 
than the life of the just. That is only what they say, Socrates, 
for I myself am not of their opinion. But still I acknowledge 
that I am perplexed when I hear the voices of Thrasymachus 
and myriads of others dinning in my ears; and, on the other 
hand, I have never yet heard the thesis that justice is better 
than injustice maintained in a satisfactory way. If I could 
hear the praises of justice and injustice considered in them- 
selves, then I should be satisfied, and you are the person from 
whom I expect to hear this ; and therefore I will praise the 
unjust life to the utmost of my power, and the manner in which 
I speak will indicate also the manner in which I desire to hear 
you praising justice and censuring injustice. Will you say 
whether you approve of this? 

Indeed I do ; nor can I imagine any theme about which a 
man of sense would oftener wish to converse. 

I am delighted, he replied, to hear you say that, and shall 
begin by speaking of the nature and origin of justice. 

They say that to do injustice is, by nature, good ; to suffer 
injustice, evil ; but that the evil is greater than the good. And 
when men have done and suffered and had experience of both, 
not being able to avoid the one and obtain the other, 
they think that they had better agree with one another 
to have neither, and thence arise laws and covenants among 
them ; and that which is ordained by law they term lawful 



THE REPUBLIC 201 

and just. This, as they affirm, is the origin and nature of jus- 
tice, arising out of a mean or compromise between the best of 
all, which is to do and not to suffer injustice, and the worst of 
all, which is to suffer without the power of retaliation ; and 
justice, being in a mean between the two, is tolerated not as a 
good, but as the lesser evil, and honored by reason of the ina- 
bility of men to do injustice. For no man who is worthy to be 
called a man would submit to such an agreement if he were 
able to resist ; he would be mad if he did. This, Socrates, is 
the received account of the nature and origin of justice. 

Now that justice is only the inability to do injustice will 
best appear if we imagine something of this kind : suppose we 
give both the just and the unjust entire liberty to do what they 
will, and let us attend and see whither desire will lead them ; 
then we shall detect the just man in the very act ; the just and 
unjust will be found going the same way, — following their 
interest, which all natures conceive to be their good, and are 
only diverted into the path of justice by the force of law. The 
liberty which we are supposing may be most conveniently 
given to them in the form of such a power as is said to have 
been possessed by Gyges, 1 the ancestor of Croesus, 2 the 
Lydian. For Gyges, according to the tradition, was a shep- 
herd and servant of the king of Lydia, and, while he was in 
the field, there was a storm and earthquake, which made an 
opening in the earth at the place where he was feeding his 
flock. He \va> amazed at the sight, and descended into the 
opening, where, among other marvels, he beheld a hollow 
brazen horse having doors, at which he, stooping and looking 
in, saw a dead body, of stature, as appeared to him, more than 
human, and having nothing on but a gold ring ; this he took 
from the finger of the dead, and reascended out of the open- 
ing. Now the shepherds met together, according to custom, 
that they might send their monthly report concerning the flock 
to the king; and into their assembly he came having the ring 
on his finger, and as he was sitting among them he 
chanced to turn the collet of the ring towards the inner 
side of the hand, when instantly he became invisible, and the 
others began to speak of him as if he were no longer there. He 

1 Gyges (gi'jez). 

2 Croesus (6th century B c.) : a king of Lydia in Asia Minor, whose wealth 
became proverbial in all languages. 



202 PLATO THE TEACHER 

was astonished at this, and again touching the ring he turned 
the collet outward and reappeared ; thereupon he made trials 
of the ring, and always with the same result ; when he turned 
the collet inwards he became invisible, when outwards he re- 
appeared. Perceiving this, he immediately contrived to be 
chosen messenger to the court, where he no sooner arrived 
than he seduced the queen, and with her help conspired against 
the king and slew him, and took the kingdom. Suppose now 
that there were two such magic rings, and the just put on one 
of them and the unjust the other ; no man is of such adaman- 
tine temper that he would stand fast in justice, — that is what 
they think. No man would dare to be honest when he could 
safely take what he liked out of the market, or go into houses 
and lie with any one at his pleasure, or kill or release from 
prison whom he would, and in all respects be like a god among 
men. Then the actions of the just would be as the actions of 
the unjust ; just or unjust would arrive at last at the same 
goal. And this is surely a great proof that a man is just, not 
willingly or because he thinks that justice is any good to him 
individually, but of necessity, for wherever any one thinks that 
he can safely be unjust, there he is unjust. For all men be- 
lieve in their hearts that injustice is far more profitable to the 
individual than justice, and he who takes this line of argument 
will say that they are right. For if you could imagine anyone 
having such a power, and never doing any wrong or touching 
what was another's, he would be thought by the lookers on to 
be a most wretched idiot, although they would praise him to 
one another's faces, and keep up appearances with one another 
from a fear that they too might be sufferers of injustice. 
Enough of this. 

Now, if we are to form a real judgment of the life of the 
just and unjust, we must isolate them ; there is no other way ; 
and how is the isolation to be effected ? I answer : Let the 
unjust man be entirely unjust, and the just man entirely just ; 
nothing is to be taken away from either of them, and both are 
to be perfected for the fulfillment of their respective parts. 
First, let the unjust be like other distinguished masters of 
, crafts ; like the skillful pilot or physician, who knows his 
own powers and attempts only what is within their limits, 
and who, if he fails at any point, is able to recover himself. So 
let the unjust make his unjust attempts in the right way, and 



THE REPUBLIC 203 

keep in the dark if he means to be great in his injustice (he 
who is detected is nobody) : for the highest reach of injustice is, 
to be deemed just when you are not. Therefore, I say that to 
the perfectly unjust man we must attribute the most perfect in- 
justice ; there is to be no deduction, and we must allow him, 
while doing the most unjust acts, to have won for himself the 
greatest reputation for justice. If he has taken a false step he 
must be able to retrieve himself, being one who can speak with 
effect, if any of his deeds come to light, and force his way 
where force is required, and having gifts of courage and 
strength, and command of money and friends. And at his side 
let us place the just man in his nobleness and simplicity, being, 
as ^Eschylus 3 says, and not seeming. There must be no seem- 
ing, for if he seem to be just he will be honored and rewarded, 
and then we shall not know whether he is just for the sake of 
justice or for the sake of honors and rewards ; therefore, let 
him be clothed in justice only, and have no other covering ; 
and he must be imagined in a state of life very different from 
that of the last. Let him be the best of men, and be esteemed 
to be the worst ; then let us see whether his virtue is proof 
against infamy and its consequences. And let him continue 
thus to the hour of death ; being just, let him seem to be un- 
just. Then when both have reached the uttermost extreme, 
the one of justice and the other of injustice, let judgment be 
given which of them is the happier of the two. 4 

Heavens ! my dear Glaucon, I said, how energetically you 
polish them up for the decision, first one and then the other, 
as if they were two statues. 

I do my best, he said. And now that we know what they 
are like there is no difficulty in tracing out the sort of life which 
awaits either of them. But as you may think the description 
of this a little too coarse, I will ask you to fancy, Socrates, that 
the words which follow are not mine. Let me put them into 
the mouths of the eulogists of injustice. They will tell you 
that in the case described the just man will be scourged, racked, 
bound — will have his eyes burnt out ; and, at last, after suffer- 
ing every kind of evil, he will be impaled. This will teach him 

9 ^Eschylus (es'ky-lus, 525-456 B.C.): earliest of the three great tragic 
poets of Greece. 

4 "There is a just man that perisheth in his righteousness, and there is a 
wicked man that prolongeth his life in wickedness." — Eccl. vii. 15. 



204 PLATO THE TEACHER 

that he ought to seem only, and not to be, just ; and that the 
words of ^Eschylus may be more truly spoken of the unjust 
. than of the just. For the unjust, as they will say, is pur- 
suing a reality ; at any rate, he does not live with a view 
to appearances, he wants to be really unjust, and not to seem 
only : — 

" His mind is like a deep and fertile soil 
Out of which his prudent counsels spring." 

In the first place, he is thought just, and therefore bears rule ; 
he can marry whom he will, and give in marriage to whom he 
will ; also he can trade and deal where he likes, and always to 
his own advantage, because he has no misgivings about injus- 
tice ; and in every contest, whether public or private, he gets 
the better of his antagonists ; and has gains, and is rich, and 
out of his gains he can benefit his friends, and harm his en- 
emies ; moreover, he can offer sacrifices, and dedicate gifts to 
the gods abundantly and magnificently, and can honor the 
gods and any man whom he wants to honor in far better style 
than the just, which is a very good reason why he should be 
dearer to the gods than the just. Thus they make to appear, 
Socrates, that the life of the unjust is so ordered both by gods 
and men as to be more blessed than the life of the just. 

I was going to say something in answer to Glaucon, when 
Adeimantus his brother interposed : Socrates, he said, you 
don't suppose that there is nothing more to be urged ? 

Why, what else is there ? I answered. 

The strongest point of all has not been even mentioned, he 
replied. 

Well, then, according to the proverb, " Let brother help 
brother ; " and if he fails in any part do you assist him ; al- 
though I must confess that Glaucon has already said quite 
enough to lay me in the dust, and take from me the power of 
helping justice. 

Nonsense, he replied ; I want you to hear the converse of 
Glaucon's argument, which is equally required in order to 
bring out what I believe to be his meaning ; I mean theargu- 
, ment of those who praise justice and censure injustice, 
with a view to their consequences only. Parents and 
tutors are always telling their sons and their wards that they 
are to be just ; but why ? not for the sake of justice, but for 



THE REPUBLIC 20$ 

the sake of character and reputation ; in the hope of obtain- 
ing some of those offices and marriages and other advantages 
which Glaucon was enumerating as accruing to the unjust from 
a fair reputation. More, however, is made of appearances 
by this class than by the others ; for they throw in the good 
opinion of the gods, and will tell you of a shower of benefits 
which the heavens, as they say, rain upon the pious ; and this 
accords with the testimony of the noble Hesiod and Homer, 
the first of whom says, that for the just the gods make — 

" The oaks to bear acorns at their summit, and bees in the middle ; 
And the sheep are bowed down with the weight of their own fleeces," 

and many other blessings of a like kind are provided for them. 
And Homer has a very similar strain ; for he speaks of one 
whose fame is — 

" As the fame of some blameless king who, like a god, 
Maintains justice ; to whom the black earth brings forth 
Wheat and barley, whose trees are bowed with fruit, 
And his sheep never fail to bear, and the sea gives him fish." 

Still grander are the gifts of Heaven which Musaeus 5 and his 
son 5 offer the just ; they take them down into the world below 
where they have the saints feasting on couches with crowns on 
their heads, and passing their whole time in drinking ; their 
idea seems to be that an immortality of drunkenness is the 
highest meed of virtue. Some extend their rewards to the 
third and fourth generation; the posterity, as they say, of the 
faithful and just shall survive them. This is the style in which 
they praise justice. But about the wicked there is another 
strain ; they bury them in a slough, and make them carry 
water in a sieve 6 ; that is their portion in the world below, 
and even while living they bring them to infamy, and inflict 
upon them the punishments which Glaucon described as the 
portion of the just, who are reputed unjust ; nothing else does 
their invention supply. Such is their manner of praising the 
one and censuring the other. 

6 See Apology, note 52 ; Protagoras, note 28. Son, Eumolpus (u-mol'- 
pus). 

6 As a punishment lor killing their husbands, the Danaides (da-na/i-dez), 
daughters of Danaus (da'na-us), were compelled, in Tartarus, to draw water 
forever in sieves. 



206 PLATO THE TEACHER 

Again, Socrates, let me mention another way of speaking 
about justice and injustice, which is not confined to the poets, 
, but is also found in prose writers. The universal voice of 
mankind is saying that justice and virtue are honorable, 
but grievous and toilsome ; and that the pleasures of vice and 
injustice are easy of attainment, and are only censured by law 
and opinion. They say also that honesty is generally less 
profitable than dishonesty ; and they are quite ready to call 
wicked men happy, and to honor them both in public and 
private when they are rich or have other sources of power, 
while they despise and neglect those who may be weak and 
poor, even though acknowledging that these are better than 
the others. But the most extraordinary of all their sayings is 
about virtue and' the gods : they say that the gods apportion 
calamity and evil to many good men, and good and happiness 
to the evil. And mendicant prophets go to rich men's doors 
and persuade them that they have a power committed to them 
of making an atonement for their sins or those of their fathers 
by sacrifices or charms, with rejoicings and games ; and they 
promise to harm an enemy, whether just or unjust, at a small 
charge ; with magic arts and incantations binding the will of 
Heaven to do their work. And the poets are the authorities 
to whom they appeal, some of them dispensing indulgences 
out of them, as when the poet sings, — 

" Vice may be easily found, and many are they who follow after her ; 
the way is smooth and not long. But before virtue the gods have set 
toil," 

and a path which they describe as tedious and steep. Others, 
again, cite Homer as a witness that the gods may be influenced 
by men, as he also says, — 

' ' The gods, too, may be moved by prayers ; and men pray to them 
and turn away their wrath by sacrifices and entreaties, and by libations 
and the odor of fat, when they have sinned and transgressed." 

And they produce a host of books written by Musaeus and Or- 
pheus, who are children of the Moon and the Muses 7 — that is 
what they say — according to which they perform their ritual, 

7 Musaeus was the son of Selene (se-le'ne), goddess of the Moon. Orpheus 
was the son of the Muse Calliope and of Apollo, who as god of song and 
poetry was called the leader of the Muses. 



THE REPUBLIC 20y 

and persuade not only individuals, but whole cities, that expia- 
tions and atonements for sin may be made by sacrifices and 
amusements which fill a vacant hour, and are equally at the 
service of the living and the dead ; the latter they call , 
mysteries, 8 and they redeem us from the pains of hell, 5 
but if we neglect them no one knows what awaits us. 9 

He proceeded : And now when the young hear all this said 
about virtue and vice, and the manner in which gods and men 
regard them, how are they likely to be affected, my dear Socra- 
tes ; those of them, I mean, who are quickwitted, and, like 
bees on the wing, light on everything which they hear, and 
thence gather inferences as to the character and way of life 
which are best for them ? Probably the youth will say to 
himself in the words of Pindar — 

" Can I by justice or by crooked ways of deceit ascend a loftier tower, 
which shall be a house of defense to me all my days ? " 

For what men say is that, if I am really just without being 
thought just, this is no good, but evident pain and loss. But 
if, though unjust, I acquire the character of justice, a heavenly 
life is to be mine. Since then, as philosophers say, appearance 
is master of truth and lord of bliss, to appearance I must wholly 
devote myself. Around and about me I will draw the simple 
garb of virtue, but behind I will trail the subtle and crafty fox, 

8 See Symposium, note 32. 

9 On true and false worship, compare : *' Now, God is the measure of all 
things in a sense far higher than any man could be, as the common saying 
affirms. And he who would be dear to God must, as far as is possible, be 
like him, and such as he is. Wherefore the temperate man is the friend of 
God, for he is like him ; and the intemperate man is unlike him, and differ- 
ent from him, and unjust. And the same holds of other things, and this is 
the conclusion, which is also the noblest and truest of all sayings : That for 
the good man to offer sacrifices to the gods, and hold converse with them by 
means of prayers and offerings, and every kind of service, is the noblest and 
best of all things, and also the most conducive to a happy life, and very fit 
and meet. But with the bad man, the opposite of this holds ; for the bad 
man has an impious soul, whereas the good is pure ; and from one who is 
polluted, neither a good man nor God is right in receiving gifts. And, 
therefore, the unholy waste their much service upon the gods, which, when 
offered by any holy man, is always accepted of them." — Plato, Laws IV., 716. 

Compare the attitude of the Old Testament prophets toward ritualism : 
" To what purpose is the multitude of your sacrifices unto me? saith the 
Lord : I am full of the burnt offerings of rams, and the fat of fed beasts ; 
and I delight not in the blood of bullocks, or of lambs, or of he-goats. 

" When ye come to appear before me, who hath required this at your 
hands, to tread my courts ? 

" Bring no more vain oblations ; incense is an abomination unto me ; the 



208 PLATO THE TEACHER 

as Archilochus, 10 first of sages, counsels. But I hear some one 
exclaiming that wickedness is not easily concealed ; to which 
I answer that nothing great is easy. Nevertheless, this is the 
road to happiness ; and the way by which we must go, follow- 
ing in the steps of the argument ; and as to concealment, that 
may be secured by the cooperation of societies and political 
clubs. And there are professors of rhetoric who teach the 
philosophy of persuading courts and assemblies ; and so, partly 
by persuasion and partly by force, I shall make unlawful gains 
and not be punished. Still I hear a voice saying that the gods 
cannot be deceived, neither can they be compelled. But what 
if there are no gods? or, suppose that the gods have no care 
about human things — in either case the result is the same, that 
we need not trouble ourselves with concealment. And even if 
there are gods, and they have a care of us, yet we know about 
them only from the traditions and genealogies of the poets ; 
and these are the very persons who say that they may be influ- 
enced by prayers and offerings. Let us be consistent then, and 

new moons and sabbaths, the calling of assemblies, I cannot away with ; it 
is iniquity, even the solemn meeting. 

"•Your new moons and your appointed feasts my soul hateth ; they are 
a trouble to me ; I am weary to bear them. 

" And when ye spread forth your hands, I will hide mine eyes from you : 
yea, when ye make many prayers, I will not hear : your hands are full of 
blood. 

" Wash you, make you clean ; put away the evil of your doing from be- 
fore mine eyes ; cease to do evil. 

" Learn to do well." — Isaiah i. 11-17. 

" I hate, I despise your feast days, and I will not smell in your solemn as- 
semblies. 

" Though ye offer me burnt offerings and your meat offerings, I will not 
accept them : neither will I regard the peace offerings of your fat beasts. 

"Take thou away from me the noise of thy songs ; for I will not hear the 
melody of thy viols. 

" But let judgment run down as waters, and righteousness as a mighty 
stream." — Amos v. 21-24. 

" Will the Lord be pleased with thousands of rams, or with ten thousands 
of rivers of oil ? shall I give my first-born for my transgression, the fruit of 
my body for the sin of my soul ? " — Micah vi. 7. 

" To what purpose cometh there to me incense from Sheba, and the sweet 
cane from a far country ? your burnt offerings are not acceptable nor your 
sacrifices sweet unto me." — Jeremiah vi. 20. 

"The sacrifice of the wicked is an abomination to the Lord: but the 
prayer of the upright is his delight." — Proverbs xv. 8. 

" For thou desirest not sacrifice ; else would I give it : thou delightest not 
in burnt offering. 

" The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit : a broken and a contrite heart, 
O God, thou wilt not despise." — Psalms vi. 16, 17. 

10 Archilochus (ar-kiTo-kus, 714 ? -676 B.C.): Greek lyric poet, noted es- 
pecially for his satire. 



THE REPUBLIC 209 

either believe both or neither. And if we believe them, why- 
then we had better be unjust, and offer of the fruits of injus- 
tice ; for if we are just we shall indeed escape the ven- , , 
geance of heaven, but we shall lose the gains of injustice ; 
whereas, if we are unjust, we shall keep the gains, and by our 
sinning and praying, and praying and sinning, the gods will be 
propitiated, and we shall be forgiven. " But there is a world 
below in which either we or our children will suffer for our 
deeds." Yes, my friend, will be the reply, but there are mys- 
teries and atoning deities, and these have great power. That 
is what mighty cities declare ; and the children of the gods, 
who are their poets and prophets, affirm the same. 

On what principle, then, shall we choose justice rather than 
the worst injustice ? when, if we only unite the latter with a 
deceitful regard to appearances, we shall fare to our mind 
both with gods and men, here as well as hereafter, as say the 
most numerous and the highest authorities. Knowing all this, 
Socrates, how can any one who has any advantage of mind or 
person or rank or wealth, be willing to honor, or indeed re- 
frain from laughing at the praises of justice? For even if there 
should be any one who is able to disprove my words, and 
who is satisfied that justice is best, still he is not angry with 
the unjust ; he is very ready to forgive them, knowing as he 
also does that men are not just of their own free will ; unless, 
perad venture, there be some one whom the divinity within 
him has inspired with a hatred of injustice, or who abstains 
because he has found knowledge — but no other man. He 
only blames injustice who, owing to cowardice or age or some 
weakness, is incapable of being unjust. And this is proved by 
the fact that those who are incapable, when they have the 
power, and in as far as they have the power, are the first to 
be unjust. 

Now all this simply arises out of the circumstance which 
you may remember, Socrates, that my brother and I both 
mentioned to you at the beginning of the argument. We told 
you how astonished we were to find that of all the professing 
panegyrists of justice — beginning with the heroes of old, of 
whom any memorial has been preserved to us, and ending 
with the men of our own time — no one has ever blamed in- 
justice or praised justice except with a view to the glories, 
honors, and benefits which flow from them. No one has ever 



210 PLATO THE TEACHER 

adequately described either in verse or prose the true essential 
nature of either of these immanent in the soul, and invisible 
to any human or divine eye ; or shown that of all the things 
of a man's soul which he has within him, justice is the great- 
, est good, and injustice the greatest evil. Had this been 
the universal strain, had you sought to persuade us of 
this from our youth upwards, we should not have been on the 
watch to keep one another from doing wrong, but every one 
would have been his own watchman, because afraid, if he did 
wrong, of having the greatest evil dwelling with him. I dare 
say that Thrasymachus and others would seriously hold the 
language which I have been only repeating, and more of the 
same sort about justice and injustice, grossly, as I conceive, 
perverting their true nature. But I am speaking with all my 
might, as I must confess, only because I want to hear you 
speak on the opposite side ; and I would ask you to show not 
only the superiority of justice over injustice, but what they do 
to the possessors of them that makes the one to be a good and 
the other an evil to him. 11 And please, as Glaucon said, to 
exclude reputation ; for unless you clothe the just in the garb 
of injustice, and the unjust in that of justice, we shall say that 
you do not praise justice, but the appearance of justice ; we 
shall think that you are only exhorting us to keep injustice 
dark, and that you really agree with Thrasymachus in think- 
ing that justice is another's good and the interest of the 
stronger, and that injustice is a man's own profit and interest, 
though injurious to the weaker. Now as you have admitted 
that justice is one of that highest class of goods which are de- 
sired as well for their results as, in a far greater degree, for their 
own sakes — just as sight or knowledge or health, or any other 
real and natural and not merely conventional goods, are de- 
sired for their own sakes — I would ask you to direct your 
praises to that one point only : I mean to the essential good 
of justice and evil of injustice. Let others praise the rewards 
and appearances of justice ; that is a manner of arguing 
which, as coming from them, I am ready to tolerate, but 
from you who have spent your whole life in thinking of this, 
unless I hear the contrary from your own lips, I expect some- 
thing better. And therefore, I say, not only prove to us that 

11 " The labour of the righteous tendeth to life ; the fruit of the wicked to 
sin." — Proverbs x. 16. 



THE REPUBLIC 211 

justice is better than injustice, but show what they either of 
them do to the possessors of them, which makes the one to be 
good and the other an evil, whether seen or unseen by gods 
and men. 

I had always admired the genius of Glaucon and Adeiman- 
tus, but when I heard this I was quite charmed, and said : 
That was not a bad beginning of the Elegiacs 12 in ,~ 
which the admirer of Glaucon addressed you as your 
father's sons after you had distinguished yourselves at the bat- 
tle of Megara 13 . — 

" Sons of Ariston, divine offspring of a glorious hero." 

The epithet is very appropriate, for there is something truly 
divine in being able to argue as you have done for the superi- 
ority of injustice, and remaining uninfluenced by your own 
arguments. And I do believe that you are not influenced ; 
this I infer from your general character, for had I judged only 
from your speeches I should have mistrusted you. But now, 
trusting you, I have all the greater mistrust of myself. For I 
am in a strait between two ; on the one hand I feel my own 
inability to maintain the cause of justice — your unwillingness 
to accept the answer which I made to Thrasymachus about the 
superiority of justice over injustice proves to me that I am un- 
equal to the task; and yet on the other hand I cannot re- 
fuse to help, for I fear that there may be a sin when justice is 
evil spoken of in standing by and failing to offer help or suc- 
cor while breath or speech remain to me. And therefore I 
must give such help as I can. Glaucon and the rest entreated 
me by all means not to let the question drop, but to proceed 
in the investigation. They wanted to arrive at the truth, 
first, about the nature of justice and injustice, and secondly, 
about their relative advantages. I told them, what I really 
thought, that the search would be no easy one, and would re- 
quire very good eyes. Seeing then, I said, we are no great 
wits, I think that we had better adopt a method which might 
be recommended to those who are short-sighted, and are 
bidden by some one to read small letters a long way off; one 

12 Refers merely to the metre, not the subject of the poem from which the 
quotation is made. 

13 It is uncertain which of the many battles fought at Megara is here re- 
ferred to. 



212 PLATO THE TEACHER 

of the party recollects that he has seen the very same letters 
elsewhere written larger and on a larger scale — if they were 
the same and we could read the larger letters first, and then 
proceed to the lesser — that would be thought a rare piece of 
good fortune. 

Very true, said Adeimantus, but how does this apply to 
our present inquiry ? 

I will tell you, I replied ; justice, which is the subject of 
our inquiry, is, as you know, sometimes spoken of as a virtue 
of an individual, and sometimes as the virtue of a State. 

True, he replied. 

And is not a State larger than an individual ? 

It is. 

Then in the larger the quantity of justice will be larger and 
more easily discernible. I propose therefore that we inquire 
, into the nature of justice and injustice as appearing in 
the State first, and secondly in the individual, proceed- 
ing from the greater to the lesser and comparing them. 

That, he said, is an excellent proposal. 

And suppose we imagine the State as in a process of crea- 
tion, and then we shall see the justice and injustice of the 
State in process of creation also. 

Very likely. 

When the State is completed there may be a hope that the 
object of our search will be more easily discovered. 

Yes, more easily. 

And shall we make the attempt? I said ; although I cannot 
promise you as an inducement that the task will be a light 
one. Reflect therefore. 

I have reflected, said Adeimantus, and am anxious that you 
should proceed. 

A State, I said, arises, as I conceive, out of the needs of 
mankind ; no one is self-sufficing, but all of us have many 
wants. Can any other origin of a State be imagined ? 

None, he replied. 

Then, as we have many wants, and many persons are 
needed to supply them, one takes a helper for one purpose 
and another for another ; and when these helpers and partners 
are gathered together in one habitation, the body of inhabi- 
tants is termed a State. 

True, he said. 



THE REPUBLIC 213 

And they exchange with one another, and one gives, and 
another receives, under the idea that the exchange will be for 
their good. 

Very true. 

Then, I said, let us begin and create a State ; and yet the 
true creator is necessity, who is the mother of our invention. 

True, he replied. 

Now the first and greatest of necessities is food, which is 
the condition of life and existence. 

Certainly. 

The second is a dwelling, and the third clothing and that 
sort of thing. 

True. 

And now let us see how our city will be able to supply this 
great demand. We may suppose that one man is a husband- 
man, another a builder, some one else a weaver : shall we add 
to them a shoemaker, or perhaps some other purveyor to our 
bodily wants ? 

Quite right. 

The barest notion of a State must include four or five men. 

Clearly. 

And how then will they proceed ? Will each give the re- 
sult of his labors to all ? — the husbandman, for example, pro- 
ducing, for four, and laboring in the production of food for 
himself and others four times as long and as much as he needs 
to labor ; or shall he leave others and not be at the trouble of 
producing for them, but produce a fourth for himself 
in a fourth of the time, and in the remaining three 
fourths of his time be employed in making a house or a coat 
or a pair of shoes ? 

Adeimantus thought that the former would be the better 
way. 

I dare say that you are right, I replied, for I am reminded 
as you speak that we are not all alike ; there are diversities of 
natures among us which are adapted to different occupations. 

Very true. 

And will you have a work better done when the workman 
has many occupations, or when he has only one ? 

When he has only one. 

Further, there can be no doubt that a work is spoilt when 
not done at the right time ? 



214 PLATO THE TEACHER 

No doubt of that. 

For business is not disposed to wait until the doer of the 
business is at leisure ; but the doer must be at command, and 
make the business his first object. 

He must. 

Thus then all things are produced more plentifully and 
easily and of a better quality when one man does one thing 
which is natural to him and is done at the right time, a»d 
leaves other things. 

Undoubtedly. 

Then more than four citizens will be required, for the hus- 
bandman will not make his own plough or mattock, or other 
implements of agriculture, if they are to be good for any- 
thing. Neither will the builder make his tools — and he, too, 
needs many ; and the same may be said of the weaver and 
shoemaker. 

True. 

Then carpenters, and smiths, and other artisans, will be 
sharers in our little State, which is already beginning to 
grow. 

True. 

Yet even if we add neatherds, shepherds, and other herds- 
men, in order that our husbandmen may have oxen to plough 
with, and builders as well as husbandmen have the use of 
beasts of burden for their carrying, and weavers and curriers 
of their fleeces and skins, — still our State will not be very large. 

That is true ; yet neither will that be a very small State 
which contains all these. 

Further, I said, to place the city on a spot where no im- 
ports are required is well nigh impossible. 

Impossible. 

Then there must be another class of citizens who will bring 
the required supply from another city ? 

There must. 

But if the trader goes empty-handed, taking nothing which 
those who are to supply the need want, he will come 
back empty-handed. 

That is certain. 

And therefore what they produce at home must be not only 
enough for themselves, but such both in quantity and quality as 
to accommodate those from whom their wants are supplied. 



THE REPUBLIC 215 

That is true. 

Then more husbandmen and more artisans will be re- 
quired ? 

They will. 

Not to mention the importers and exporters, who are called 
merchants. 

Yes. 

Then we shall want merchants ? 

We shall. 

And if merchandise is to be carried over the sea, skillful 
sailors will be needed, and in considerable numbers ? 

Yes, in considerable numbers. 

Then, again, within the city, how will they exchange their 
productions ? and this, as you may remember, was the object 
of our society. 

The way will be, that they will buy and sell. 

Then they will need a market-place, and a money-token for 
purposes of exchange. 

Certainly. 

Suppose now that a husbandman, or possibly an artisan, 
brings some production to market, and he comes at a time 
when there is no one to exchange with him, — is he to leave 
his work and sit idle in the market-place? 

Not at all ; he will find people there who, seeing this want, 
take upon themselves the duty of sale. In well-ordered States 
they are commonly those who are the weakest in bodily 
strength, and therefore unable to do anything else ; for all 
they have to do is to be in the market, and take money of 
those who desire to buy goods, and in exchange for goods to 
give money to those who desire to sell. 

This want, then, will introduce retailers into our State. Is 
not " retailer " the term which is applied to those who sit in 
the market-place buying and selling, while those who wander 
from one city to another are called merchants ? 

Yes, he said. 

And there is another class of servants, who are intellectually 
hardly on the level of companionship; still they have plenty 
of bodily strength for labor, which accordingly they sell, and 
are called, if I do not mistake, hirelings, hire being the name 
which is given to the price of their labor. 

True. 



2l6 PLATO THE TEACHER 

Then hirelings will help to make our population. 

And now, Adeimantus, is our State matured and per- 
fected ? 

Surely. 

Where, then, is justice, and where is injustice, and in which 
part of the State are they to be found ? 

Probably in the relations of these citizens with one an- 
' other. I cannot imagine any other place in which they 
are more likely to be found. 

I dare say that you are right in that suggestion, I said ; 
still, we had better consider the matter further, and not 
shrink from the task. 

First, then, let us consider what will be their way of life, 
now that we have thus established them. Will they not pro- 
duce corn, and wine, and clothes, and shoes, and build houses 
for themselves ? And when they are housed, they will work 
in summer commonly stripped and barefoot, but in winter 
substantially clothed and shod. They will feed on barley and 
wheat, baking the wheat and kneading the flour, making 
noble puddings and loaves ; these they will serve up on a mat 
of reeds or clean leaves, themselves reclining the while upon 
beds of yew or myrtle boughs. And they and their children 
will feast, drinking of the wine which they have made, wear- 
ing garlands on their heads, and having the praises of the 
gods on their lips, living in sweet society, and having a care 
that their families do not exceed their means; for they will 
have an eye to poverty or war. 

But, said Glaucon, interposing, you have not given them a 
relish to their meal. 

True, I replied, I had forgotten that ; of course they will 
have a relish, — salt, and olives, and cheese, and onions, and 
cabbages or other country herbs which are fit for boiling ; and 
we shall give them a dessert of figs, and pulse, and beans, and 
myrtle-berries, and beech-nuts, which they will roast at the 
fire, drinking in moderation. And with such a diet they 
may be expected to live in peace to a good old age, and be- 
queath a similar life to their children after them. 

Yes, Socrates, he said, and if you were making a city of 
pigs, how else would you feed the beasts ? 

But what would you have, Glaucon ? I replied. 

Why, he said, you should give them the properties of life. 



THE REPUBLIC 217 

People who are to be comfortable are accustomed to lie on 
sofas, and dine off tables, and they should have dainties and 
dessert in the modern fashion. 

Yes, said I, now I understand ; the question which you 
would have me consider is, not only how a State, but how a 
luxurious State is to be created ; and possibly there is no harm 
in this, for in such a State we shall be more likely to see how 
justice and injustice grow up. I am certainly of opinion that 
the true State, and that which may be said to be a healthy 
constitution, is the one which I have described. But if you 
would like to see the inflamed constitution, there is no objec- 
tion to this. For I suppose that many will be dissatis- 
fied with the simpler way of life. They will be for add- 
ing sofas, and tables, and other furniture ; also dainties, and 
perfumes, and incense, and courtesans, and cakes, not of one 
sort only, but in profusion and variety ; our imagination 
must not be limited to the necessaries of which I was at first 
speaking, such as houses, and clothes, and shoes ; but the art 
of the painter and embroiderer will have to be set in motion, 
and gold and ivory and other materials of art will be re- 
quired. 

True, he said. 

Then we must enlarge our borders ; for the original healthy 
State is too small. Now will the city have to fill and swell 
with a multitude of callings which go beyond what is required 
by any natural want ; such as the whole tribe of hunters and 
actors 14 of which one large class have to do with figures and 
colors, another are musicians ; there will be poets and their 
attendant train of rhapsodist.s, 15 players, dancers, contractors; 
also makers of divers kinds of utensils, not forgetting women's 
ornaments. And we shall want more servants. Will not 
tutors be also in request, and nurses wet and dry, tirewomen 
and barbers, as well as confectioners and cooks ; and swine- 
herds, too, who were not needed and therefore not included 
in the former edition of our State, but needed in this? They 

14 Bosanquet in his Companion to Plato's Republic, has the following note : 
" 'Hunters' and 'imitators.' (1) The predatory classes, including lawyers, 
political orators, and professional teachers (Sophists) ; and (2) those who 
practice the arts of deception, again including the Sophist, together with the 
sculptor, painter, musician, poet, and here apparently those who have to 
do with women's toilet." 

15 See Phaedrus, note 62. 



2l8 PLATO THE TEACHER 

must not be forgotten : and there will be hosts of animals, if 
people are to eat them. 

Certainly. 

And living in this way we shall have much greater need of 
physicians than before? 

Much greater. 

And the country which was enough to support the original 
inhabitants will be too small now, and not enough? 

Quite true. 

Then a slice of our neighbor's land will be wanted by us for 
pasture and tillage, and they will want a slice of ours, if, like 
ourselves, they exceed the limit of necessity, and give them- 
selves up to the unlimited accumulation of wealth ? 

That, Socrates, will be unavoidable. 

And then we shall go to war, Glaucon, — that will be the 
next thing. 

So we shall, he replied. 

Then, without determining as yet whether war does good 
or harm, thus much we may affirm, that now we have dis- 
covered war to be derived from causes which are also the 
causes of almost all the evils in States, private as well as public. 

Undoubtedly. 

Then our State must once more enlarge ; and this time the 

enlargement will be nothing short of a whole army, which 

will have to go out and fight with the invaders for all 

that we have, as well as for the precious souls whom we 

were describing above. 

Why? he said; are they not capable of defending them- 
selves ? 

No, I said; not if you and all of us were right in the prin- 
ciple which was acknowledged at the first creation of the State: 
that principle was, as you will remember, that one man could 
not practice many arts. 

Very true, he said. 

But is not war an art ? 

Certainly. 

And an art requiring as much attention as shoemaking ? 

Quite true. 

And the shoemaker was not allowed to be a husbandman, 
or a weaver, or a builder — in order that we might have our 
shoes well made : but to him and to every other worker one 



THE REPUBLIC 219 

work was assigned by us for which he was fitted by nature, 
and he was to continue working all his life long at that and ac 
no other, and not to let opportunities slip, and then he would 
become a good workman. And is there any more important 
work than to be a good soldier? But is war an art so easily 
acquired that a man may be a warrior who is also a husband- 
man, or shoemaker, or other artisan ; although no one in the 
world would be a good dice or draught 16 player who merely 
took up the game as a recreation, and had not from his earliest 
years devoted himself to this and nothing else ? The mere 
handling of tools will not make a man a skilled workman, or 
master of defense, nor be of any use to him who knows not 
the nature of each, and has never bestowed any attention upon 
them. How then will he who takes up a shield or other 
implement of war all in a day become a good fighter, whether 
with heavy-armed or any other kind of troops? 

Yes, he said, the tools which would teach their own use 
would be of rare value. 

And the greater the business of the guardian is, I said, the 
more time, and art, and skill will be needed by him ? 

That is what I should suppose, he replied. 

Will he not also require natural gifts? 

Certainly. 

We shall have to select natures which are suited to their 
task of guarding the city ? 

That will be our duty. 

And anything but an easy duty, I said ; but still we must 
endeavor to do our best as far as we can ? 

We must. 

The dog is a watcher, I said, and the guardian is also a 
watcher; and regarding them in this point of view only, 
is not the noble youth very like a well-bred dog ? 375 

How do you mean ? 

I mean that both of them ought to be quick to observe, and 
swift to overtake the enemy; and strong too, if, when they 
have caught him, they have to fight with him. 

All these qualities, he replied, will certainly be required. 

Well, and your guardian must be brave if he is to fight well? 

Certainly. 

And is he likely to be brave who has no spirit, whether 

16 Draughts : a game similar to our checkers. 



220 PLATO THE TEACHER 

horse or dog or any other animal ? Did you never observe 
how the presence of spirit makes the soul of any creature 
absolutely fearless and invincible ? 

Yes ; I have observed that. 

Then now we have a clear idea of both the bodily qualities 
which are required in the guardian. 

True. 

And also of the mental ones; his soul is to be full of spirit? 

Yes. 

But then, Glaucon, those spirited natures are apt to be furi- 
ous with one another, and with everybody else. 

That is a difficulty, he replied. 

Whereas, I said, they ought to be gentle to their friends, 
and dangerous to their enemies ; or, instead of their enemies 
destroying them, they will destroy themselves. 

True, he said. 

What is to be done then, I said ? how shall we find a gentle 
nature which has also a great spirit, for they seem to be incon- 
sistent with one another ? 

True. 

And yet he will not be a good guardian who is wanting in 
either of these two qualities ; and, as the combination of them 
appears to be impossible, this is equivalent to saying that to be 
a good guardian is also impossible. 

I am afraid that is true, he replied. 

Here feeling perplexed, I began to think over what pre- 
ceded. My friend, I said, we deserve to be in a puzzle ; for 
if we had only kept the simile before us, the perplexity in 
which we are entangled would never have arisen. 

What do you mean ? he said. 

I mean to say that there are natures gifted with those 
opposite qualities, the combination of which we are denying. 

And where do you find them? 

Many animals, I replied, furnish examples of them ; our 
friend the dog is a very good one : you know that well-bred 
dogs are perfectly gentle to their familiars and acquaintances, 
and the reverse to strangers. 

I know that. 

Then there is nothing impossible or out of the order of 
nature in our finding a guardian who has a similar combination 
of qualities? 



THE REPUBLIC 221 

Certainly not. 

Would you not say that he should combine with the spirited 
nature the qualities of a philosopher? 

I do not apprehend your meaning. 

The trait of which I am speaking, I replied, may be , 
also seen in the dog, and is very remarkable in an animal. ' 

What trait ? 

Why a dog, whenever he sees a stranger, is angry ; when an 
acquaintance, he welcomes him, although the one has never 
done him any harm, nor the other any good. Did this never 
strike you as curious ? 

I never before made the observation myself, though I quite 
recognize the truth of your remark. 

And surely this instinct of the dog is very charming, — your 
dog is a true philosopher. 

Why? 

Why, because he distinguishes the face of a friend and of an 
enemy only by the criterion of knowing and not knowing. 
And must not the creature be fond of learning who determines 
what is friendly and what is unfriendly by the test of knowl- 
edge and ignorance ? 

Most assuredly. 

And is not the love of learning the love of wisdom, which 
is philosophy ? 

They are the same, he replied. 

And may we not say confidently of man also, that he who 
is likely to be gentle to his friends and acquaintances, must by 
nature be a lover of wisdom and knowledge ? 

That we may safely affirm. 

Then he who is to be a really good and noble guardian of 
the State will require to unite in himself philosophy and spirit 
and swiftness and strength? 

Undoubtedly. 

Then we have found the desired natures; and now that we 
have found them, how are they to be reared and educated ? 
Is this an inquiry which may be fairly expected to throw light 
on the greater inquiry which is our final end — How do justice 
and injustice grow up in States ? for we do not want to admit 
anything which is superfluous, or leave out anything which is 
really to the point. 

Adeimantus thought that the inquiry would be of use to us. 



222 PLATO THE TEACHER 

Then, I said, my dear friend, the task must not be given up, 
even if somewhat long. 

Certainly not. 

Come then, and like story-tellers, let us be at leisure, and 
our story shall be the education of our heroes. 

By all means. 

And what shall be their education ? Can we find a better 
than the old-fashioned sort ? — and this has two divisions, gym- 
nastic for the body, and music 17 for the soul. 

True. 

Music is taught first, and gymnastic afterwards? 

Certainly. 

And when you speak of music, do you rank literature under 
music or not? 

I do. 

And literature mav be either true or false? 

Yes. 

And the young are trained in both kinds, and in the 
378 false before the true ? 

I do not understand your meaning, he said. 

You know, I said, that we begin by telling children stories, 
which, though not wholly destitute of truth, are in the main 
fictitious; and these stories are told them when they are not 
of an age to learn gymnastics. 

Very true. 

That was my meaning in saying that we must teach music 
before gymnastics. 

17 " Music to the ancients had a far wider significance than it has to us. It 
was opposed to gymnastic as ' mental ' to ' bodily ' training, and included 
equally reading and writing, mathematics, harmony, poetry, and music 
strictly speaking." — Jowett, 3d ed., v., p. 474. 

" The word music is not to be judged according to the limited signification 
which it now bears. It comprehended from the beginning everything ap- 
pertaining to the province of the Nine Muses — not merely learning the use 
of the lyre, or how to bear part in a chorus, but also the hearing, learning, 
and repeating of poetical compositions, as well as the practice of exact and 
elegant pronunciation. ... As the range of ideas enlarged, so the word 
music and musical teacher acquired an expanded meaning, so as to compre- 
hend matter of instruction at once ampler and more diversified. During 
the middle of the fifth century B.C. at Athens, there came thus to be found 
among the musical teachers, men of the most distinguished abilities and emi- 
nence ; masters of all the learning and accomplishments of the age, teaching 
what was.known of astronomy, geography, and physics, and capable of hold- 
ing dialectical discussions with their pupils upon all the various problems 
then afloat among intellectual men." — Grote's History of Greece, III., chap, 
lxvii. 



THE REPUBLIC 223 

Quite right, he said. 

You know also that the beginning is the chiefest part of any 
work, especially in a young and tender thing ; for that is the 
time at which the character is formed and most readily re- 
ceives the desired impression. 

Quite true. 

And shall we just carelessly allow children to hear any 
casual tales which may be framed by casual persons, and to 
receive into their minds notions which are the very opposite 
of those which are to be held by them when they are grown 
up? 

We cannot allow that. 

Then the first thing will be to have a censorship of the 
writers of fiction, and let the censors receive any tale of fiction 
which is good, and reject the bad; and we will desire mothers 
and nurses to tell their children the authorized ones only. 
Let them fashion the mind with these tales, and not the tender 
frame with the hands only. At the same time, most of those 
which are now in use will have to be discarded. 

Of what tales are you speaking? he said. 

You may find a model of the lesser in the greater, I said ; 
for they are necessarily cast in the same mould, and there is 
the same spirit in both of them. 

That may be very true, he replied ; but I don't as yet know 
what you would term the greater. 

Those, I said, which are narrated by Homer and Hesiod, 
and the rest of the poets, who have ever been the great story- 
tellers of mankind. 

But which are the stories that you mean, he said ; and what 
fault do you find with them ? 

A fault which is most serious, I said ; the fault of telling a 
lie, and a bad lie. 

But when is this fault committed ? 

Whenever an erroneous representation is made of the nature 
of gods and heroes, — like the drawing of a limner which has 
not the shadow of a likeness to the truth. 

Yes, he said, that sort of thing is certainly very blamable ; 
but what are the stories which you mean ? 

[Socrates gives examples of what he regards as objectionable 
mythology for the young. He condemns the tales in which 



224 PLATO THE TEACHER 

the gods are represented as committing outrageous crimes or 
as quarreling and fighting among themselves, on the ground 
that they would lead the young man to believe that quarrel- 
ing is honorable and holy, and that in committing the worst 
of crimes he is only following the example of the greatest 
among the gods. He says:] 

Such tales must not be admitted into our State, whether 
they are supposed to have an allegorical meaning or not. For 
the young man cannot judge what is allegorical and what is 
literal, and anything that he receives into his mind at that age 
is apt to become indelible and unalterable; and therefore 
the tales which they first hear should be models of virtuous 
thoughts. 

There you are right, he replied; that is quite essential: 
but, then, where are such models to be found? and what are 
the tales in which they are contained ? when that question is 
asked, what will be our answer? 

I said to him, You and I, Adeimantus, are not poets in 
what we are about just now, but founders of a State : now the 
founders of a State ought to know the general forms in 
which poets should cast their tales, and the limits which 
should be observed by them, but they are not bound them- 
selves to make the tales. 

That is true, he said ; but what are these forms of theology 18 
which you mean ? 

[The first rule to which Socrates would require all kinds of 
poetry to conform is, " God is always to be represented as he 
truly is." The question then arises, what is the nature of 
God ? Adeimantus agrees with Socrates that God is truly 
good and therefore cannot be the cause of evil. Socrates 
continues :] 

Then God, if he be good, is not the author of all things, 
as the many assert, but he is the cause of a few things only, 
and not of most things that occur to men ; for few are the 
goods of human life, and many are the evils, and the good 
only is to be attributed to him : of the evil other causes have 
to be discovered. 

18 In this case theology means poetic representations of the gods. 



THE REPUBLIC 225 

That appears to me to be most true, he said. 
Then we must not listen to Homer or any other poet who 
is guilty of the folly of saying that — ■ 

" At the threshold of Zeus lie two casks full of lots, one of good, the 
other of evil ; " 

and that he to whom Zeus gives a mixture of the two — 

" Sometimes meets with good, at other times with evil fortune; " 

but that he to whom is given the cup of unmingled ill, — 

" Him wild hunger drives over the divine earth." 

And again — 

" Zeus, who is the dispenser of good and evil to us." 

. . . Neither will we allow our young men to hear 
the words of ^Eschylus, when he says, that " God plants 3 o™ 
guilt among men when he desires utterly to destroy a 
house." 

[Only that evil which comes as a just punishment to the 
wicked and by which they are benefited, may be attributed to 
God.] 

But that God being good is the author of evil to any one, 
that is to be strenuously denied, and not allowed to be sung 
or said in any well-ordered commonwealth by old or young. 
Such a fiction is suicidal, ruinous, impious. 

I agree with you, he replied, about this law, and am ready 
to give my assent. 

Let this then be one of the rules of recitation and inven- 
tion, — that God is not the author of evil, but of good only. 

That will do, he said. 

And what do you think of another principle? Shall I ask 
you whether God is a magician, that he should appear insid- 
iously now in one shape, and now in another — sometimes 
himself changing and becoming different in form, sometimes 
deceiving us with the appearance of such transformations ; or 
is he one and the same, immutably fixed in his own proper 
image ? 

i5 



226 PLATO THE TEACHER 

[Adeimantus agrees that God cannot be changed by any 
external influence, and that he will not wish to change himself, 
for he is already perfect in virtue and beauty.] 

Then, I said, my dear friend, let none of the poets tell us 
that 

"The gods, in the disguise of strangers, prowl about cities, having 
diverse forms ; " 

and let no one slander Proteus 19 and Thetis, 20 neither let any 
one either in tragedy or any other kind of poetry, introduce 
Here disguised in the likeness of a priestess, — 

" Asking an alms for the life-giving daughters of the river Inachus ; " il 

let us have no more lies of that sort. Neither must we have 
mothers under the influence of the poets scaring their children 
with abominable tales — 

"Of certain gods who go about by night in the likeness, as is said, of 
strangers from every land ; " 

let them beware lest they blaspheme against the gods, and at 
the same time make cowards of their children. 

That ought certainly to be prohibited, he said. 

But still you may say that although God is himself un- 
changeable, he may take various forms in order to bewitch 
and deceive us. 

Suppose that, he replied. 

Well, but can you imagine that God will be willing to lie, 
whether in word or action, by making a false representation 

£ of himself? 
283° I cannot say, he replied. 

[Adeimantus is made to see that " the superhuman and divine 
is absolutely incapable of falsehood " and agrees with Socrates 
that "God is perfectly simple and true both in deed and 
word ; he changes not ; he deceives not, either by dream or 
waking vision, by sign or word." 

The second rule then to which the poets must conform is 
that God is true.] 

19 See Euthydemus, note 19. 

30 Thetis (the'tis): a sea-nymph, who, like Proteus, had the power of assum- 
ing any form. 

31 Inachus (i'n-a-kus). 



THE REPUBLIC 227 



BOOK III 

Such then, I said, are our principles of theology — some 
tales are to be told, and others are not to be told to our dis- 
ciples from their youth upwards, if we mean them to 
honor the gods and their parents, and to value friend- 5 ^?" 
ship with one another. 3 7 

Yes ; and I think that our principles are right, he said. 

Well, I said, and if they are to be courageous, must they 
not learn, besides these, other lessons also, such as will have 
th3 effect of taking away the fear of death ? Can any man 
be courageous who has the fear of death in him ? 

Certainly not, he said. 

And can he be fearless of death, or will he choose death in 
battle rather than defeat and slavery, who believes in the real- 
ity and the terror of the world below ? l 

Impossible. 

Then we must assume a control over this class of tales as 
well as over the others and beg the relators of them not sim- 
ply to revile, but rather to commend the world below. 

[We must destroy such passages as the one in Homer where 
he attributes to the shade of Achilles in Hades these words : 
"I would rather be a serf on the land of a poor and por- 
tionless man than rule over all the dead who have come to 
naught ; " and such verses as "He feared lest the mansions 
grim and squalid which the gods abhor should be seen of 
mortals and immortals."] 

And we must beg Homer and the other poets not to be 
angry if we strike out these and similar passages, not be- 
cause they are unpoetical, or unattractive to the popular ear, 
but because the greater the charm of them as poetry, the less 
are they meet for the ears of boys and men who are to be sons 
of freedom, and are to fear slavery more than death. 

Undoubtedly. 

Also we shall have to reject all the terrible and appalling 

1 See Apology, note 23. 



228 PLATO THE TEACHER 

names which describe the world below — Cocytus and Styx, 2 
ghosts under the earth, and sapless shades, and any other words 
of the same type, the very mention of which causes a shudder 
to pass through the inmost soul of him who hears them. I do 
not say that these tales may not have a use of some kind ; but 
there is a danger that the nerves of our guardians may become 
affected by them. 

[The youth must learn to endure calmly any misfortune 
which may befall, even the death of relative or friend.] 

Reflect : our principle is that the good man will not con- 
sider death terrible to a good man. 

Yes ; that is our principle. 

And therefore he will not sorrow for his departed friend as 
though he had suffered anything terrible? 

He will not. 

Such an one, as we further maintain, is enough for himself 
and his own happiness, and therefore is least in need of other 
men. 

True, he said. 

And for this reason the loss of a son or brother, or the dep- 
rivation of fortune, is to him of all men least terrible. 

Assuredly. 

And therefore he will be least likely to lament, and will 
bear with the greatest equanimity any misfortune of this sort 
which may befall him. 

Yes, he will feel such a misfortune less than another. 

Then we shall be right in getting rid of the lamentations of 

famous men, and making them over to women (and not even 

to women who are good for anything), or to men of a 

3^8- baser sort, that those who are being educated by us to 

be the defenders of their country may scorn to do the 

like. 

We shall be very right. 

Then we will once more entreat Homer and the other poets 
not to depict Achilles, who is the son of a goddess, 3 as first 
lying on his side, then on his back, and then on his face ; then 

2 Cocytus (cosy'tus) : the River of Wailing. Styx (styx) : the Hateful. 
Both according to myth, rivers of the world below. 

3 See Apology, note 21. 



THE REPUBLIC 229 

starting up again in a frenzy and in full sail upon the shores of 
the barren sea, nor again taking the dusky ashes in both his 
hands and pouring them over his head, or bewailing and sor- 
rowing in the various modes which Homer has delineated. Nor 
should he describe Priam, 4 the kinsman of the gods, — 

" Rolling in the dirt, calling each man loudly by his name." 

[Still less should the gods themselves be introduced wailing 
over sorrows and woes.] 

For if, my sweet Adeimantus, our youth seriously believe 
in such unworthy representations of the gods, instead of laugh- 
ing at them as they ought, hardly will any of them deem that 
he himself, being but a man, can be dishonored by similar ac- 
tions ; neither will he rebuke any inclination that may arise 
in his mind to say and do the like. And instead of having 
any shame or self-control, he will be always whining and 
lamenting on slight occasions. 

[Our guardians ought not to indulge in excessive laughter 
which almost always produces a violent reaction. We should 
therefore not suffer Homer to say in describing a feast of the 
gods, 

" Inextinguishable laughter rose among the blessed gods." 

Truth must be highly valued by the youth, for lying among 
the citizens is a practice destructive of the State. 

The youth must be temperate. The chief elements of tem- 
perance are, in general, obedience to commanders and self- 
control in sensual pleasures. Therefore Socrates approves such 
words in Homer as 

" The Greeks marched breathing prowess, 
In silent awe of their leaders." 

But he condemns the line 

4 ' Oh heavy with wine, who hast the eyes of a dog and the heart of a 
stag." 

Nor should the poets' praises of eating and drinking and of 
lower forms of pleasure be repeated to the young. Instead, 

* Priam, king of Troy, was said to be descended from Zeus. 



230 PLATO THE TEACHER 

they should hear of the endurance of famous men, for exam- 
ple : 

" He smote his breast and thus reproached his soul, 
Endure, my soul, thou hast endured worse." 

The youth must not receive bribes or be lovers of money. So 
the poets must not be allowed to sing of 

"Gifts persuading gods, persuading reverend kings." 

In short, all examples of ignoble action, of insolence, of 
cruelty, of crime, or of impiety on the part of the gods or the 
children of the gods, we must equally refuse to believe or allow 
to be repeated. Socrates says of the poets : ] 

We will not have them teaching our youth that the gods 
are the authors of evil, and that heroes are no better than men ; 
for, as we were saying, these sentiments are neither pious nor 
true, being at variance with our demonstration that evil can- 
not come from God. Also they are likely to have a bad ef- 
fect on those who hear them ; for everybody will begin to 
excuse his own vices when he is convinced that similar wick- 
ednesses are always being perpetrated by the kindred of the 
gods,— 

"The relatives of Zeus, whose paternal altar is in the heavens and on 
the mount of Ida," 5 

and who have — 

" The blood of deity yet flowing in their veins." 

And therefore let us put an end to such tales, lest they engen- 
der laxity of morals among the young. 

[The poets must not be allowed to lie about men any more 
than about gods and demigods, or the shades below.] 

Because, if I am not mistaken, we shall have to say that 
poets and story-tellers make the gravest misstatements about 
men when they say that many wicked men are happy, and 
good men miserable ; and we shall forbid them to utter these 
things, and command them to sing and say the opposite. 

6 A mountain in Asia Minor, sacred to Zeus. 



THE REPUBLIC 23 1 

[Thus far Socrates has discussed the subject matter of poetry. 
He now turns to style. All poetry and mythology he claims 
to be a narration of events past, present, or to come. Narra- 
tion may take one of three forms, simple narration, imitation, 
or a union of the two. We have simple narration where the 
poet speaks always in his own person and never leads us to 
suppose that he is any one else. We have imitation where 
the poet speaks in the person of another, as in tragedy and 
comedy. The poet here imitates the persons whose charac- 
ters he assumes. We may have a combination of simple narra- 
tion and imitation, as in the epic. 

Socrates now asks this question, " Are the poets in narrating 
their stories to be allowed to imitate in whole or in part, or 
should all imitation be prohibited?" The answer to this 
question depends upon the answer to a second question, 
''Ought our guardians to be imitators?" Socrates thinks 
the latter question has already been answered. The rule has 
been laid down that one man can only do one thing well and 
not many. This is equally true of imitation ; no man can 
imitate many things as well as he would imitate a single 
one. Still less can one person ' ' play the serious part of life, 
and at the same time be an imitator and imitate 6 many other 
parts as well." Socrates continues : ] 

If then we would retain the notion with which we began, 
that our guardians are to be released from every other art, and 
to be the special artificers of freedom, and to minister to this 
and no other end, they ought not to practice or imitate any- 
thing else ; and, if they imitate at all, they should imitate the 
characters which are suitable to their profession — the tem- 
perate, holy, free, courageous, and the like ; but they should 
not depict or be able to imitate any kind of illiberality or 
other baseness, lest from imitation they should come to be 
what they imitate. Did you never observe how imitations, 
beginning in early youth, at last sink into the constitution 
and become a second nature of body, voice, and mind ? 

For this reason there is one sort of narration which may be 
used or spoken by a truly good man, and there is another sort 

6 Since the study of poetry involved the singing and reciting of it, the 
style had more effect on the student than in the simple reading to one's 
self. 



232 PLATO THE TEACHER 

which will be exclusively adapted to a man of another charac- 
ter and education. 

And which are these two sorts ? he asked. 

Suppose, I answered, that a just and good man in the course 
of narration comes on some saying or action of another good 
man, — I should imagine that he will like to impersonate him, 
and will not be ashamed of this sort of imitation ; he will be 
most ready to play the part of the good man when he is acting 
firmly and wisely ; in a less degree when his steps'falter, owing 
to sickness or love, or again from intoxication or any other mis- 
hap. But when he comes to a character which is unworthy of 
him, he will not make a study of that ; he will disdain to wear 
the likeness of his inferiors, unless indeed during some brief 
interval when they may be doing any good ; at other times he 
will be ashamed to play a part which he has never practiced, 
nor will he like to fashion and frame himself after the baser 
models ; he feels that this would be beneath him, when carried 
beyond a pastime. 

[The simplicity of that style of writing which is largely nar- 
ration with no imitation or at least only the imitation of virt- 
ue, is best suited to the simplicity of the ideal state 
where one man plays but one part. Socrates continues :] 

And therefore when any one of these clever multiform gen- 
tlemen, who can imitate anything, comes to our State, and pro- 
* poses to exhibit himself and his poetry, we will fall down 
a oo" anc * worsn ip him as a sweet and holy and wonderful be- 
ing; but we must also inform him that there is no place 
for such as he is in our State,— the law will not allow them. 
And so when we have anointed him with myrrh, and set a 
garland of wool upon his head, we shall send him away to 
another city. For we mean to employ for our souls' health 
the rougher and severer poet and story-teller, who will imitate 
the style of the virtuous only, and will follow those models 
which we prescribed at first when we began to speak of the 
education of our soldiers. 

[Having discussed both the subject matter and style of myth 
and poetry, Socrates turns next to song. The song or ode he 
says, has three parts, the words, the melody, and the rhythm. 



THE REPUBLIC 233 

" As for the words, there will be no difference between words 
that are and are not set to music ; both will conform to the 
same laws, and these have been already determined by us." 

Now the melody or harmony and the rhythm will depend 
upon the words. Harmony is first considered. As lamenta- 
tions and strains of sorrow were forbidden, so harmonies which 
are expressive of sorrow must be banished. Likewise since 
the guardians must be temperate and not hear examples of 
drunkenness and indolence in poetry or song, drinking melo- 
dies must be banished. There are two kinds of harmony 
which Socrates would allow. He says : ] 

I want to have one warlike, which will sound the word or 
note which a brave man utters in the hour of danger and stern 
resolve, or when his cause is failing and he is going to wounds 
or death or is overtaken by some other evil, and at every such 
crisis meets fortune with calmness and endurance ; and another 
which may be used by him in times of peace and freedom of 
action, when there is no pressure of necessity — expressive of 
entreaty or persuasion, of prayer to God, or instruction of 
man, or again, of willingness to listen to persuasion or entreaty 
and advice ; and which represents him when he has accom- 
plished his aim, not carried away by success, but acting mod- 
erately and wisely and acquiescing in the event. These two 
harmonies I ask you to leave ; the strain of necessity and the 
strain of freedom, the strain of the unfortunate and the strain 
of the fortunate, the strain of courage, and the strain of tem- 
perance ; these, I say, leave. 

[As the harmonies which Socrates permits are very simple 
and do not require multiplicity of notes or a complex scale, 
there is no need for complex musical instruments. He would 
allow only the lyre and harp in the city and the shepherd's 
pipe in the country. 

Rhythm is next considered. Here as everywhere the an- 
swer to the question what shall be permitted, must be de- 
termined by the end of education. " We ought not to have 
complex or manifold systems of metre, but rather to discover 
what rhythms are the expressions of a courageous and har- 
monious life ; and the words should come first and the rhythms 
should be adapted to them." For, Socrates says:] 



234 PLATO THE TEACHER 

Our principle is that rhythm and harmony are regulated by 
the words, and not the words by them. 

Certainly, he said, they should follow the words. 

And the words and the character of the style should depend 
on the temper of the soul ? 

Yes. 

And everything else on the words ? 

Yes. 

Then good language and harmony and grace and rhythm 
depend on simplicity, — I mean the simplicity of a truly and 
nobly ordered mind, not that other simplicity which is only a 
euphemism for folly ? 

Very true, he replied. 

And if our youth are to do their work in life, must they not 
make these their perpetual aim ? 

They must. 

And all life is full of them, as well as every creative and 
constructive art ; the art of painting, weaving and embroid- 
ery, and building, and the manufacture of vessels, as well 
as the frames of animals and of plants ; in all of them 
there is grace or the absence of grace. And absence of grace 
and inharmonious movement and discord are nearly allied to 
ill words and ill nature, as grace and harmony are the sisters 
and images of goodness and virtue. 

That is quite true, he said. 

But is our superintendence to go no further, and are the 
poets only to be required by us to impress a good moral on 
their poems as the condition of writing poetry in our State? 
Or is the same control to be exercised over other artists, and 
are they also to be prohibited from exhibiting the opposite forms 
of vice and intemperance and meanness and indecency in sculpt- 
ure and building and the other creative arts ; and is he who does 
not conform to this rule of ours to be prohibited from practicing 
his art in our State, lest the taste of our citizens be corrupted 
by him ? We would not have our guardians grow up amid 
images of moral deformity, as in some noxious pasture, and 
there browse and feed upon many a baneful herb and flower 
day by day, little by little, until they silently gather a fester- 
ing mass of corruption in their own soul. Let our artists 
rather be those who are gifted to discern the true nature of 
beauty and grace ; then will our youth dwell in a land of 



THE REPUBLIC 235 

health, amid fair sights and sounds ; and beauty, the effluence 
of fair works, will meet the sense like a breeze, and insensibly 
draw the soul even in childhood into harmony with the beauty 
of reason. 

There can be no nobler training than that, he replied. 

Is not this, I said, the reason. Glaucon, why musical train- 
ing is so powerful, because rhythm and harmony find their way 
into the secret places of the soul, on which they mightily fasten, 
bearing grace in their movements, and making the soul grace- 
ful of him who is rightly educated, or ungraceful if ill-edu- 
cated ; and also because he who has received this true education 
of the inner being will most shrewdly perceive omissions or 
faults in art and nature, and with a true taste, while he praises 
and rejoices over, and receives into his soul the good, 
and becomes noble and good, he will justly blame and ^? Q I 
hate the bad, now in the days of his youth, even before 
he is able to know the reason of the thing ; and when reason 
comes he will recognize and salute her as a friend with whom 
his education has made him long familiar. 

Yes, he said, I quite agree with you in thinking that these 
are the reasons why there should be a musical education. 

Just as in learning to read, I said, we want to know the 
various letters in all their recurring sizes and combinations; 
not slighting them as unimportant whether they be large or 
small, but everywhere eager to make them out ; and are not 
supposed to be perfect in the art until we recognize them 
wherever they are found : 

True— 

Or, as we recognize the reflection of letters in the water, or 
in a mirror, only when we know the letters themselves ; the 
same art giving us the knowledge of both : 

Exactly — 

Even so, I have no hesitation in saying that neither we nor 
our guardians, whom we have to educate, can ever become 
musical until we know the essential forms of temperance, 
courage, liberality, magnificence, as well as the cognate and 
contrary forms, in all their combinations, and can recognize 
them and their images wherever they are found, not slighting 
them either in small things or great, but believing them all to 
be within the sphere of one art and study. 

Most assuredly. 



236 PLATO THE TEACHER 

And when a beautiful soul harmonizes with a beautiful form, 
and the two are cast in one mould, that will be the fairest of 
sights to him who has the eye to contemplate the vision ? 

The fairest indeed. 

And the fairest are also the loveliest ? 

That may be assumed. 

And the man who has music in his soul will be most in love 
with the loveliest ; but if they are inharmonious in soul he 
will not love them ? 

That is true, he replied, if the deformity be in the soul, but 
any merely personal defect he will be willing to regard with 
complacency. 

Thus much then is said of music which makes a fair end- 
ing, for what should be the end of music if not the love of 
beauty ? 

I agree, he said. 

After music comes gymnastic, 7 in which our youth are next 
to be trained. 

Certainly. 

And gymnastic as well as music should receive careful at- 
tention in childhood, and continue through life. Now my 
belief is, — and this is a matter upon which I should like to 
have your opinion, but my own belief is, — not that the good 
body improves the soul, but that the good soul improves the 
body. What do you say ? 

Yes, I agree. 

Then, if we have educated the mind, the minuter care of 
the body may properly be committed to the mind, and we 
need only indicate general principles for brevity's sake. 

7 " According to the scheme of studies in Book VII., the gymnastic train- 
ing was to be pursued by itself from the age of seventeen or eighteen to 
twenty. This provision probably indicated the nature of the training in ques- 
tion, for these were the years in which a young Athenian discharged military 
or patrol duty within the borders of Attica as a foretaste of the full military 
service which was one great aspect of citizen life. Thus we are not here to 
think merely of 'gymnastics' with ropes and bars or of 'athletic sports,' 
but also of drill, riding, hunting, the practice of arms, and some limited 
share in actual campaigning." — Bosanquet, p. no. 

Bosanquet quotes Aristotle's Politics as criticising the current methods of 
gymnastic training. Some of the States he says gave a physical training fit 
rather for professional athletes than for future citizens. The Spartans trained 
men to be fierce, wild, and wolf-like, supposing mistakenly that this temper 
went with courage. 



THE REPUBLIC 237 

Very good. 

That they must abstain from intoxication has been already 
remarked by us, for of all persons a guardian should be the 
last to get drunk and not know where in the world he is. 

Yes, he said ; that a guardian should require another to 
guard him is ridiculous indeed. 

But next, what shall we say of their food ; for the men are 
athletes in the great contest of all, are they not ? 

Yes, he said. 

And will gymnastic exercises be a suitable training for 
them? 4 ° 4 

I cannot say. 

I am afraid, I said, that such exercise is but a sleepy sort 
of thing, and rather perilous to health. Do you not observe 
that athletes sleep away their lives, and are liable to most 
dangerous illnesses if they depart, in ever so slight a degree, 
from their customary regimen ? 

Yes, I observe that. 

Then, I said, a finer sort of training will be required for our 
warrior athletes, who are to be like wakeful dogs, and to see 
and hear with the utmost keenness ; they will have to endure 
many changes of water and also of food, of summer heat and 
winter cold, and yet they must not be liable to break down in 
health. 

That is quite my view, he said. 

The really excellent gymnastic is twin sister of that simple 
music which we were just now describing. 

How is that ? 

Why, I conceive that there is a gymnastic also which is sim- 
ple and good ; and that such ought to be the military gym- 
nastic. 

What do you mean ? 

My meaning may be learned from Homer; he, you know, 
feeds his heroes when they are campaigning on soldiers' fare ; 
they have no fish, although they are on the shores of the Hell- 
espont, and they are allowed nothing but roast meat — which 
only requires fire, and is therefore the most convenient diet for 
soldiers — and not boiled, as this would involve a carrying 
about of pots and pans. 

True. 

And I can hardly be mistaken in saying that sweet sauces 



238 PLATO THE TEACHER 

are not even mentioned by him. In this, however, he is not 
singular, as all professional athletes know that a man who is to 
be in good condition should take nothing of that sort, 

[The effects of luxurious living upon the body may be likened 
to the effects of complex music upon the soul.] 

There complexity engendered license, and here disease ; 
whereas simplicity in music was the parent of temperance in 
the soul, and simplicity in gymnastic, of health in the body. 

Most true, he said. 

But when intemperance and diseases multiply in a State, halls 

of justice and medicine are always being opened; and the 

arts of the doctor and the lawyer begin to give them- 

4°5" selves airs, finding how keen is the interest which the 

4 very freemen of a city take about them. 

Most true. 

And yet what greater proof can there be of a bad and dis- 
graceful state of education than this, that not only the meaner 
classes and the artisans are in need of the high skill of physi- 
cians and judges, but also those who would tell us that they 
have had a liberal education? Is not this disgraceful, and a 
great sign of the want of education, that a man should have to 
go abroad for his law and physic because he has none of his 
own at home, and must therefore surrender himself into the 
hands of others ? 

Nothing, he said, can be more disgraceful. 

Would you say that, I replied, when you consider that there 
is a further stage of the evil in which a man is not only a life- 
long litigant, passing his days always in the courts either as 
plaintiff or defendant, but is led by his bad taste even to pride 
himself on this ; he is ready to fancy that he is a master 
in cunning ; and he will take every crooked turn and wriggle 
into and out of every hole, bending like a withy and getting 
away, and all for what? in order that he may gain small points 
not worth mentioning, not knowing that so to order his life as 
to be able to do without a nodding judge is a far higher and 
nobler sort of thing. Is not that still more disgraceful? 

Yes, he said, that is still more disgraceful. 

Well, I said, and to require the help of medicine, not when 
a wound has to be cured, or on occasion of an epidemic, but 



THE REPUBLIC 239 

just because, by their lives of indolence and luxury, men fill 
themselves like pools with waters and winds, compelling the 
ingenious sons of Asclepius 8 to give diseases the names of flatu- 
lence and catarrh ; is not this, too, a disgrace ? 

[In the days of Asclepius and Homer, and before the time 
of Herodicus, most of the diseases which we now have did 
not exist and the practice of medicine was very simple. But 
the present system of medicine may be said to educate diseases.] 

Herodicus, being a trainer, and himself of a sickly consti 
tution, by a happy combination of training and doctoring, 
found out a way of torturing first and principally himself, and 
secondly the rest of the world. 

How was that ? he said. 

By the invention of lingering death ; for he had a mortal 
disease which he perpetually tended, and as recovery was out 
of the question, he passed his entire life as a valetudinarian ; 
he could do nothing but attend upon himself, and he was in 
constant torment whenever he departed in anything from his 
usual regimen, and so dying hard, by the help of science he 
struggled on to old age. 

What a noble reward of the physician's skill ! 

Yes, I said ; such a reward as a man might fairly expect 
who knew not the wisdom of Asclepius, and did not consider 
that, if he failed to instruct his descendants in these arts, this 
arose not from ignorance or inexperience of such a department 
of medicine, but because he knew that in all well-ordered 
States every individual had an occupation to which he must 
attend, and therefore had no leisure to spend in continually 
being ill. This we remark in the case of the artisan, but, 
ludicrously enough, fail to apply the same rule to people of 
the richer sort. 

How is that ? he said. 

I replied ; when a carpenter is ill he asks the physician for 
a rough and ready remedy ; an emetic or a purge or cautery or 
the knife, — these are his remedies. And if any one tells him 
that he must go through a course of dietetics, and swathe and 
swaddle his head, and all that sort of thing, he replies at once 
that he has no time to be ill, and that he sees no good in a life 

8 Physicians. See Protagoras, note 8. 



240 PLATO THE TEACHER 

which is spent in nursing his disease to the neglect of his ordi- 
nary calling ; and therefore saying good-by to this sort of phy- 
sician, he resumes his customary diet, and either gets well and 
lives and does his business, or, if his constitution fails, he dies 
and has done with it. 

Yes, he said, and a man in his condition of life ought to use 
this summary art of medicine. 

Has he not, I said, an occupation ; and what profit 
4 7° would there be in his life if he were deprived of his oc- 
cupation ? 

Very true, he said. 

But the rich man, as we say, is a gentleman who has no 
work which he ought to do or die ? 

He is generally supposed to have nothing to do. 

Then you never heard of the saying of Phocylides, 9 that as 
soon as a man has a livelihood he should practice virtue ? 

Nay, he said, I think that he need not wait for that. 

I don't want to raise that question, I replied ; 1 want rather 
to know whether the practice of virtue is obligatory on the 
rich, and ought to be a necessity of life to him; and if so, 
whether their dieting of disorders, which is an impediment to 
the application of the mind in carpentering and the mechani- 
cal arts, does not equally stand in the way of the maxim of 
Phocylides? 

Of that, he replied, there can be no doubt ; such excessive 
care of the body, when carried beyond the rules of gymnastic, 
is most inimical to the practice of virtue, and equally incom- 
patible with the management of a house, an army, or an office 
of State. 

Yes, and even more incompatible, I replied, with any kind 
of study or thought or self- reflection. 

[Asclepins shows himself to have been a good statesman. 
He conserved the interests of the State in healing only those 
of healthy constitution and habits of life. He did not attempt 
to cure diseased constitutions because they were of no use to 
the State.] 

All that, Socrates, he said, is excellent; but I should like 
to put a question to you. Ought there not to be good physi- 

9 Phocylides (fo-cyl'i-dez, 560 B.C.) : a Greek poet. 



THE REPUBLIC 241 

dans in a State, and are not the best those who have the 
greatest experience of constitutions good and bad, just as good 
judges are those who are acquainted with all sorts of moral 
natures ? 

Yes, I said, I quite agree about the necessity of having good 
judges and good physicians. But do you know whom I think 
good? 

Will you inform me? 

Yes, if I can. Let me however note that in the same 
question you join two things which are not the same. 

How is that ? he said. 

Why, I said, you join physicians and judges. Now skillful 
physicians are those who, besides knowing their art, have from 
their youth upwards had the greatest experience of disease ; 
they had better not be in robust health, and should have had 
all manner of diseases in their own persons. For the body, as 
I conceive, is not the instrument with which they cure the 
body ; in that case we would not allow them ever to be sickly ; 
but they cure the body with the mind, and the mind which is 
or has become sick can cure nothing. 

That is very true, he said. 

But with the judge the case is different ; he governs mind 
by mind, and he cannot be allowed therefore to have been 
reared among vicious minds, and to have associated with 
them from youth upwards, in order that, having gone 9 
through the whole calendar of crime, he may infer the crimes 
of others like their diseases from the knowledge of himself; 
but the honorable mind which is to form a healthy judgment 
ought rather to have had no experience or contamination of 
evil habits when young. And this is the reason why in youth 
good men often appear to be simple, and are easily practiced 
upon by the evil, because they have no samples of evil in their 
own souls. 

Yes, he said, that very often happens with them. 

Therefore, I said, the judge should not be young ; he should 
have learned to know evil, not from his own soul, but from 
.late and long observation of the nature of evil in others : 
knowledge, and not his own experience, should be his guide. 

Yes, he said, that is the ideal of a judge. 

Yes, I replied, and he will be good too (and this answers 
your question) ; for he is good whose soul is good ; now you? 
16 



242 PLATO THE TEACHER 

cunning and suspicious character, who has committed many 
crimes, when he is among men who are like himself, is won- 
derful in his precautions against others, because he judges of 
them by himself: but when he gets into the company of men 
of virtue, who have the experience of age, he appears to be a 
fool again, owing to his unseasonable suspicion : he cannot 
recognize an honest man, because he has nothing in himself 
at all parallel to judge from ; at the same time, as the bad 
are more numerous than the good, and he meets with them 
oftener, he thinks himself, and others think him, rather wise 
than foolish. 

Most true, he said. 

Then the good and wise judge whom we are seeking is not 
this man ; the other is better suited to us ; for vice cannot 
know virtue, but a virtuous nature, educated by time, will ac- 
quire a knowledge both of virtue and vice : the virtuous, and 
not the vicious man has wisdom ; that is my view. 

And mine also. 

This is the sort of medicine, and this is the sort of law, 

which you will sanction. They will be healing arts to better 

natures in their souls and in their bodies; but the worse 

nature or constitution they will in the case of the body 

leave to die, and the diseased and incurable soul they will put 

to death themselves. 

That is clearly best for them and for the State. 
' And thus our youth, having been educated only in that 
simple music which infuses temperance, will be reluctant to 
go to law. 

That is evident. 

And in the same way simple gymnastic will incline him to 
have as little as possible to do with medicine. 

That I quite believe. 

The very exercises and toils he will undertake in order to 
stimulate the spirited element of his nature, rather than with a 
view of increasing his strength ; he will not, like common 
athletes, use exercise and regimen to develop his muscles. 

Very right, he said. 

Neither are the two arts of music and gymnastic really de- 
signed, the one for the training of the soul, the other for the 
training of the body. 

But what is the real object ? 



THE REPUBLIC 243 

I believe, I said, that the teachers of both have in view- 
chiefly the improvement of the soul. 

How is that ? he asked. 

Did you never observe, I said, the effect on the mind of 
exclusive devotion to gymnastic, or the opposite effect of an 
exclusive devotion to music ? 

In what is that shown ? he said. 

In producing a temper of hardness and ferocity, or again of 
softness and effeminacy, I replied. 

Yes, he said, I am quite aware that your mere athlete be- 
comes too much of a savage, and that the musician is melted 
and softened beyond what is good for him. 

Moreover, I said, that fierce quality gives spirit, and, if ed- 
ucated rightly, will be valiant, but, if overstrained, is likely 
to become hard and brutal. 

That I quite think. 

The philosopher is the type of the gentler character. This, 
if too much relaxed, will turn to softness, but, if educated, 
will be gentle and modest. 

True. 

And our view is that the guardians ought to have both these 
qualities ? 

They ought. 

They should be harmonized ? 

Beyond question. 

And the harmonious soul is both temperate and val- 
iant? 4 " 

Yes. 

And the inharmonious is cowardly and boorish ? 

Very true. 

And, when a man allows music to play and pour over his 
soul through his ears, which are the funnel, those sweet and 
soft and melancholy airs of which we w r ere just now speaking, 
and his whole life is passed in warbling and the delights of 
song ; in the first stage of the process the passion or spirit 
which is in him is tempered like iron, and made useful, instead 
of brittle and useless. But, if he carries on the softening proc- 
ess, in the next stage he begins to melt and consume, until 
the passion of his soul is melted out of him, and what may be 
called the nerves of his soul are cut away, and he makes but a 
feeble warrior. 



244 PLATO THE TEACHER 

Very true. 

If the element of spirit is naturally weak in him this is soon 
accomplished, but if he have a good deal, then the power of 
music weakening the spirit renders him excitable ; he soon 
flames up, and is speedily extinguished ; instead of having 
spirit he becomes irritable and violent and very discontented. 

Exactly. 

Thus in gymnastics also, if a man works hard and is a great 
feeder, and the reverse of a great student of music and philos- 
ophy, at first the high condition of his body fills him with pride 
and spirit, until he is twice the man that he was. 

Certainly. 

But if he do nothing else, and never cultivates the Muses, 
even that intelligence which there may be in him, having no 
taste of any sort of learning or inquiry or thought or music, 
becomes feeble and dull and blind, because never roused or 
sustained, and because the senses are not purged of their mists. 

True, he said. 

And he ends by becoming a hater of philosophy, unculti- 
vated, never using the weapon of persuasion, — he is like a 
wild beast, all violence and fierceness, and knows no other 
way of dealing; and he lives in all ignorance and evil condi- 
tions, and has no sense of propriety and grace. 

That is quite true, he said. 

And as there are two principles of human nature, one the 
spirited and the other the philosophical, my belief is that God 
has given mankind two arts answering to them (and only 
indirectly to the soul and body), in order that these two 
principles may be duly attuned and harmonized with one an- 
other. 

That I am disposed to believe. 

And he who mingles music with gymnastic in the fairest 
proportions, and best attempers them to the soul, may be 
called the true musician and harmonist in a far higher sense 
than the tuner of the strings. 

I dare say, Socrates. 

And such a presiding genius will be always required in our 
State if the government is to last. 

Yes, he will be absolutely necessary. 

Such, then, are our principles of nurture and education. 
There would be no use in going into further details about their 



THE REPUBLIC 245 

dances, their hunting or chasing with dogs, their gymnastic and 
equestrian contests ; for these all follow the general principle, 
and there will be no longer any difficulty in discovering them. 

I dare say that there will be no difficulty. 

Very well, I said ; and what is the next question ? Must 
we not ask who are to be rulers and who subjects ? 

Certainly. 

There can be no doubt that the elder sort must rule the 
younger. 

Clearly. 

And that the best of the elder sort must rule. 

That is also clear. 

Now, are not the best husbandmen those who are most de- 
voted to husbandry ? 

Yes. 

And as we must have the best guardians of our city, must 
they not be those who have most the character of guardians ? 

Yes. 

And to this end they ought to be wise and efficient, and to 
have a special interest about the State ? 

True. 

And a man will be most likely to care about that which he 
happens to love ? 

That may be truly inferred. 

And he will be most likely to love that which he regards as 
having the same interests with himself, and anything the good 
or evil fortune of which he imagines to involve as a result his 
own good or evil fortune, and to be proportionably careless 
when he is less concerned ? 

Very true, he replied. 

Then there must be a selection. Let us note among the 
guardians those who in their whole life show the greatest de- 
sire to do what is for the good of their country, and will not 
do what is against her interests. 

Those are the right men. 

They will have to be watched at every turn of their lives, 
in order that we may see whether they preserve this resolu- 
tion, and never, under the influence either of force or en- 
chantment, forget or let go their duty to the State. 

I do not understand, he said, the meaning of the latter 
words. 



246 PLATO THE TEACHER 

I will explain them to you, I replied. A resolution may 
go out of a man's mind either with his will or against his 
will; with his will when he gets rid of a falsehood, 
^ against his will whenever he is deprived of a truth. 

I understand, he said, the willing loss of a resolution ; the 
meaning of the unwilling I have yet to learn. 

Why, I said, do you not see that men are unwillingly de- 
prived of good, and willingly of evil ? Is not to have lost the 
truth an evil, and to have the truth a good ? and you would 
allow that to conceive things as they are is to have the truth ? 

Yes, he replied ; I agree with you in thinking that mankind 
are deprived of truth against their will. 

And do they not experience this involuntary effect owing 
either to theft, or force, or enchantment? 

Still, he replied, I do not understand you. 

I fear that I must have been talking darkly, like the trage- 
dians. All that I mean is that some men change and others 
forget ; persuasion steals away the hearts of the one class, and 
time of the other ; and this I call theft. Now you understand 
me? 

Yes. 

Those again who are forced, are those whom the violence 
of some pain or grief compels co change their opinion. 

That, he said, I understand, and you are quite right. 

And you would also acknowledge with me that those are 
enchanted who change their minds either under the softer in- 
fluence of pleasure, or the sterner influence of fear ? 

Yes, he said ; everything that deceives may be said to en- 
chant. 

Therefore, as I was just now saying, we must inquire who 
are the best guardians of their own conviction that the inter- 
est of the State is to be the rule of all their actions. We must 
watch them from their youth upwards, and propose deeds for 
them to perform in which they are most likely to forget or to 
be deceived, and he who remembers and is not deceived is to 
be selected, and he who fails in the trial is to be rejected. 
That will be the way. 

Yes. 

And there should also be toils and pains and conflicts pre- 
scribed for them, in which they will give further proof of the 
same qualities. 



THE REPUBLIC 247 

Very right, he replied. 

And then, I said, we must try them with enchantments — 
that is the third sort of test — and see what will be their be- 
havior ; like those who take colts amid noises and cries to see 
if they are of a timid nature, so must we take our youth amid 
terrors of some kind, and again pass them into pleasures, and 
try them more thoroughly than gold is tried in the fire, in 
order to discover whether they are armed against all enchant- 
ments, and of a noble bearing always, good guardians of them- 
selves and of the music which they have learned, and retain 
under all circumstances a rhythmical and harmonious nature, 
sich as will be most serviceable to the man himself and to the 
State. And he who at every age, as boy and youth and in 
mature life, has come out of the trial victorious and pure, shall 
be appointed a ruler and guardian of the State ; he shall 
be honored in life and death, and shall receive sepulture 
and other memorials of honor, the greatest that we have to 
give. And as he is chosen his opposite is rejected. I am in- 
clined to think that this is the sort of way in which our rulers 
and guardians should be chosen. I speak generally, and not 
with any pretension to exactness. 

And, speaking generally, I agree with you, he said. 

And perhaps the word " guardian " in the fullest sense ought 
to be applied to this class only who are our warriors abroad 
and our peacemakers at home, and who save us from those 
who might have the will or the power to injure us. The 
young men whom we before called guardians may be more 
properly designated auxiliaries and allies of the principles of 
the rulers. 

[Socrates suggests that the citizens be told an old Phoenician 
myth as part of their education. 10 ] 

They are to be informed that their youth was a dream, 
and the education and training which they received from us 
an appearance only ; in reality during all that time they 
were in process of formation and nourishment in the womb of 

10 In this place, as also in Laws, II., 663, Socrates advises that the people 
should be taught as literal truth a myth, which is intended to convey a les- 
son. Here as elsewhere he justifies a certain kind of falsehood. Observe 
that the " Socratic method " in this case does not consist in asking questions 
but in the inculcation of truth by myth. 



248 PLATO THE TEACHER 

the earth, where they themselves and their arms and appurte- 
nances were manufactured ; and when they were completed, 
the earth, their mother, sent them up ; and, their country 
being their mother and also their nurse, they are therefore 
bound to advise for her good, and to defend her against 
attacks, and her citizens they are to regard as children of the 
earth and their own brothers. . . . Citizens, we shall say 
to them in our tale, you are brothers, yet God has framed 
you differently. Some of you have the power of command, 
and these he has composed of gold, wherefore also they have 
the greatest honor ; others of silver, to be auxiliaries ; others 
again who are to be husbandmen and craftsmen he has made 
of brass and iron ; and the species will generally be preserved 
in the children. But as you are of the same original family, 
a golden parent will sometimes have a silver son, or a silver 
parent a golden son. And God proclaims to the rulers, as a 
first principle, that before all they should watch over their 
offspring, and see what elements mingle in their nature ; for 
if the son of a golden or silver parent has an admixture of 
brass and iron, then nature orders a transposition of ranks, 
and the eye of the ruler must not be pitiful towards his child 
because he has to descend in the scale and become a husband- 
man or artisan, just as there may be others sprung from the 
artisan class who are raised to honor, and become guardians 
and auxiliaries. For an oracle says that when a man of brass 
or iron guards the State, it will then be destroyed. Such is the 
tale; is there any possibility of making our citizens believe in it? 

Not in the present generation, he replied ; I do not see any 
way of accomplishing this ; but their sons may be made to 
believe, and their sons' sons, and posterity after them. 

I see the difficulty, I replied ; yet even this amount of 
belief may make them care more for the city and for one 
another. Enough, however, of the fiction, which may now 
be borne on the wings of rumor, while we arm our earth-born 
heroes, and lead them forth under the command of their rulers. 
Let them look around and select a spot whence they can best 
prevent insurrection, if any prove refractory within, and also 
defend themselves against enemies, who like wolves may come 
down on the fold from without ; there let them encamp, and 
when they have encamped, let them sacrifice and prepare their 
dwellings. 



THE REPUBLIC 249 

And what sort of dwellings are they to have ? 

Dwellings that will shield them against the cold of winter 
and the heat of summer. 

I suppose that you mean houses, he replied. 

Yes, I said ; but they must be the houses of soldiers, and 
not of shop-keepers. 

What is the difference? he said. 

That I will endeavor to explain, I replied. To keep , 
watch-dogs, who, from want of discipline or hunger, or 
some evil habit or other, would turn upon the sheep and worry 
them, and behave not like dogs but wolves, would be a foul 
and monstrous thing ? 

Truly monstrous, he said. 

And, therefore, every care must be taken lest our auxilia- 
ries, as they are stronger than our citizens, should prevail over 
them, and become savage tyrants instead of gentle allies to 
them ? 

Yes, care should be taken. 

And would not education be the best preparation and safe- 
guard of them ? 

But they are well-educated, he replied ; that is a safeguard 
which they already have. 

I cannot be so confident of that, my dear Glaucon, I said ; 
I am much more certain that they ought to be, and that true 
education, whatever that may be, will greatly tend to civilize 
and humanize them in their relations to one another, and to 
those who are under their protection. 

True, he replied. 

And not only their education, but their habitations, and 
also their means of subsistence, should be such as will neither 
impair their virtue as guardians, nor tempt them to prey upon 
the other citizens. Any man of sense will say that. 

He will. 

Such is our conception of them ; and now let us consider 
what way of life will correspond with this conception. In the 
first place, none of them should have any property beyond 
what is absolutely necessary ; neither should they have a private 
house, with bars and bolts, closed against any one who has a 
mind to enter ; their provisions should be only such as are re- 
quired by trained warriors, who are men of temperance and 
courage; their agreement is to receive from the citizens a 



250 PLATO THE TEACHER 

fixed rate of pay, enough to meet the expenses of the year and 
no more, and they will have common meals and live together, 
like soldiers in a camp. Gold and silver we will tell them 
that they have from God ; the diviner metal is within them, 
and they have therefore no need of that earthly dross which 
passes under the name of gold, and ought not to pollute the 
divine by earthly admixture, for that commoner metal 
has been the source of many unholy deeds ; but their 
own is undenled. And they alone of all the citizens may not 
touch or handle silver or gold, or be under the same roof with 
them, or wear them, or drink from them. And this will be 
their salvation, and the salvation of the State. But should they 
ever acquire homes or lands or moneys of their own, they will 
become housekeepers and husbandmen instead of guardians, 
enemies and tyrants instead of allies of the other citizens; 
hating and being hated, plotting and being plotted against, 
they will pass through life in much greater terror of internal 
than of external enemies, and the hour of ruin, both to them- 
selves and to the rest of the State, will be at hand. For all 
which reasons may we not say that these are to be the regula- 
tions of our guardians respecting houses and all other things, 
and that such shall be our laws ? 
Yes, said Glaucon. 



THE REPUBLIC 251 



BOOK IV 

Here Adeimantus interposed a question. He said : How 
would you answer, Socrates, if a person were to say that you 
make your citizens miserable, and all by their own doing ; 
for they are the actual owners of the city, and yet they reap 
no advantage from this ; whereas other men acquire lands, 
and build large and handsome houses, and have everything 
handsome about them ; offering sacrifices to the gods on their 
own account, and practicing hospitality ; and also, as you 
were saying only just now, they have gold and silver, and all 
that is usual among the favorites of fortune ; while our poor 
citizens are no better than mercenaries who are fixed in the 
city and do nothing but mount guard ? 

Yes, I said ; and you may add that they are only fed, and 
not paid, in addition to their food, like other men ; and 
therefore they cannot make a journey of pleasure, they 
have no money to spend on a mistress or any other luxuri- 
O-is fancy, which, as the world goes, is thought to be happiness ; 
and many other accusations of the same nature might be added. 

But, said he, let us suppose all that included in the charge. 

You mean to ask, I said, what is to be our answer ? 

Yes, he replied. 

If we proceed along the path which we are already going, I 
said, my belief is that we shall find the answer. Even if our 
guardians were such as you describe, there would not be any- 
thing wonderful in their still being the happiest of men ; but 
let that pass, for our object in the construction of the State is 
the greatest happiness of the whole, and not that of any one 
class ; and in a State which is ordered with a view to the good 
of the whole, we think that we are most likely to find justice, 
and in the ill-ordered State injustice : and, having found 
them, we shall then be able to decide which of the two is the 
happier. At present we are constructing the happy State, not 
piecemeal, or with a view of making a few happy citizens, but 
as a whole ; and by and by we will proceed to view the op- 
posite kind of State. If we were painting a statue, 1 and some 

1 A peculiarity of ancient sculpture and architecture was the practice of 
painting all kinds of marble work. This is known from traces still present in 
many works of art and from passages in ancient writers. 



252 PLATO THE TEACHER 

one were to come and blame us for not putting the most 
beautiful colors on the most beautiful parts of the body — for 
the eyes, he would say, ought to be purple, but they are black 
— in that case we should seem to excuse ourselves fairly 
enough by saying to him, " Pray, sir, do not have the strange 
notion that we ought to beautify the eyes to such a degree 
that they are no longer eyes ; but see whether, by giving this 
and the other features their due, we make the whole beautiful." 
And, I say again, in like manner do not compel us to assign 
to the guardians a sort of happiness which will make them 
anything but guardians ; for we also should have no difficulty 
in clothing our husbandmen in fine linen, and setting crowns 
of gold on their heads, bidding them till the ground no 
more than they like. Neither is ignorance the reason why 
we do not allow our potters to repose on couches, and feast 
by the fireside, passing round the glittering bowl, while their 
wheel is conveniently at hand, and working at pottery as 
much as they like, and no more; or, why we do not make 
every class happy in this way — and then, as you imagine, the 
whole State would be happy. But do not suggest this ; for, 
if we listen to you, the husbandman will be no longer a 
husbandman, the potter will cease to be a potter, and 
nobody will have any distinct character. Now this is not of 
much importance where the corruption of society, and pre- 
tension to be what you are not, extends only to cobblers ; 
but when the guardians of the laws and of the government 
are only seemers and not real guardians, that, as you will ob- 
serve, is the utter ruin of the State : for they alone are the 
authors of happiness and order in a State. If we are right in 
depicting our guardians as the saviours and not the destroyers 
of the State, and the author of the other picture is represent- 
ing peasants at a festival, happy in a life of revelry, rather 
than fulfilling the duties of citizens, we mean different things, 
and he is speaking of something which is not a State. And 
therefore we must consider whether we appoint our guardians 
with a view to their greatest happiness, or whether this prin- 
ciple of happiness does not rather reside in the State as a 
whole ; but if so, the guardians and auxiliaries, and all others 
equally with them, must be compelled or induced to do their 
own work in the best way and then the whole State growing 
up in a noble order, the several classes will only have to re- 



THE REPUBLIC 253 

ceive the proportion of happiness which nature assigns to 
them. 

I think that you are quite right. 

I wonder whether you will agree with another remark which 
occurs to me. 

What may that be ? 

There seem to be two causes of the deterioration of the 
arts. 

What are they ? 

Wealth, I said, and poverty. 

How do they act ? 

The process is as follows : When a potter becomes rich he 
no longer takes the same pains with his art ? 

Certainly not. 

He grows more and more indolent and careless ? 

Very true. 

And the result is that he becomes a worse potter ? 

Yes ; he greatly deteriorates. 

But, on the other hand, if he has no money, and is unable 
to buy tools or instruments, he will not work equally well 
himself, nor will he teach his sons or apprentices to work 
equally well. 

Certainly not. 

Then workmen, and also their works, are apt to degenerate 
under the influence both of poverty and of wealth ? 

That is evident. 

Here, then, is a discovery of new evils, I said, which the 
guardians will have to watch, or they will creep into the city 
unobserved. 

What evils ? 

Wealth, I said, and poverty ; for the one is the par- 
ent of luxury and indolence, and the other of meanness 
and viciousness, and both of discontent. 2 

That is very true, he replied ; but still I should like to 
know, Socrates, how our city will be able to go to war, es- 
pecially against an enemy who is rich and powerful, if de- 
prived of the sinews of war. 

There may possibly be a difficulty, I replied, in going to 
war with one such enemy ; but there is no difficulty where 
there are two of them. 

2 " Give me neither poverty nor riches. "—Proverbs xxx. 8. 



254 PLATO THE TEACHER 

How is that ? he asked. 

In the first place, I said, our side will be trained warriors 
fighting against a number of wealthy individuals. 

That is true, he said. 

And do you not suppose, Adeimantus, that a single boxer 
who was perfect in his art would easily be a match for two 
stout and well-to-do gentlemen who were not boxers ? 

Hardly, if they came upon him at once. 

What, not, I said, if he were able to run away and then 
turn and strike at the one who first came up? And supposing 
he were to do this several times under the heat of a scorch- 
ing sun, do not you think that he might overturn more than 
one stout personage ? 

Certainly, he said, there would be nothing wonderful in 
that. 

And yet rich men are probably not so inferior to others in 
boxing as they are in military qualities. 

That is very likely. 

Then probably our 'athletes will be able to fight with three 
or four times their own number ? 

I believe that you are right, he said. 

And suppose that, before engaging, our citizens send an 
embassy to one of the two cities, telling them the truth : Silver 
and gold we neither have nor are permitted to have ; in that 
we are not like you ; do you therefore come and help us in 
war, and take the spoils of the other city. Who, on hearing 
these words, would choose to fight the lean wiry dogs, rather 
than, with the dogs on their side, to fight fat and tender 
sheep ? 

Very true ; but still there might be a danger to the poor 
State if the wealth of many States were to coalesce in one. 

States ! I said ; why, what simplicity is this, that you 
should use the term " State" of any but our own State! 
Other States may indeed be spoken of more grandiloquently 
in the plural number, for they are many in one — a game of 
cities at which men play. Any ordinary city, however small, 
is in fact two cities, one the city of the poor, the other of 
the rich, at war with one another ; and in either divis- 
ion there are many smaller ones, and you would make 
a great mistake if you treated them as single States ; but if 
you deal with them as many, and give the money or means or 



THE REPUBLIC 255 

persons of the one to the others, you will always have a great 
many friends, and not many enemies. And your State, while 
the wise order which has now been prescribed continues to 
prevail in her, will be the greatest of States, not in reputation 
or appearance only, but in deed and truth, though she num- 
ber not more than a thousand defenders. A State which is 
her equal you will hardly find, either among Hellenes or bar- 
barians, 3 though many that appear to be as great and many 
times greater. 

That is most true, he said. 

And this, I said, will be the best limit for our rulers to fix 
when they are considering the size of the State and the amount 
of territory which they are to include, and beyond which they 
will not go. 

What limit ? 

I think, I said, that the State may increase to any size 
which is consistent with unity ; that is the limit. 

Yes, he said ; that is excellent. 

Here then, I said, is another order which will have to be 
conveyed to our guardians, — that our city is to be neither 
large nor small, but of such a size as is consistent with unity. 

And surely, said he, this is not a very severe order which 
we impose upon them. 

And this, said I, is lighter still of which we were speaking 
before, — I mean the duty of degrading the offspring of the 
guardians when inferior, and of elevating the offspring of the 
lower classes, when naturally superior, into the rank of guar- 
dians. The intention was, that, in the case of the citizens 
generally, we should put each individual man to that use for 
which nature designed him, and then every man would do his 
own business, and be one and not many, and the whole city 
would be one and not many. 

Yes, he said ; there will be even less difficulty in that. 

These things, my good Adeimantus, are not, as might be 
supposed, a number of great principles, but trifling all of 
them, if care be taken, as the saying is, of the one great 
thing, — a thing, however, which I would rather call not great, 
but enough for our purpose. 

What may that be? he asked. 

Education, I said, and nurture. For if they are well edu- 
s A terra applied by the Greeks to all who were not Greeks. 



256 PLATO THE TEACHER 

cated, and grow into sensible men, they will easily see their 
way through all this as well as other matters which I do not 
mention ; such, for example, as the possession of women and 
marriage and the procreation of children, which will all 
follow the general principle that friends have all things 
in common, 4 as the proverb says. 

That will be excellent, he replied. 

Also, I said, the State, if once started well, goes on with 
accumulating force like a wheel. For good nurture and edu- 
cation implant good constitutions, and these good constitu- 
tions having their roots in a good education improve more 
and more, and this improvement affects the breed in man as 
in other animals. 

True, he said. 

Then to sum up. This is the point to which, above all, 
the attention of our rulers should be directed, — that music 
and gymnastics be preserved in their original form, and no 
innovation made. They must do all they can to maintain this. 
And when any one says that mankind most regard — 

"The song which is the newest that the singers have," 

they will be afraid that he may be praising, not new songs, 
but a new kind of song ; and this ought not to be praised, 
nor is this to be regarded as the meaning of the poet ; for any 
musical innovation is full of danger to the State, and ought to 
be prevented. This is what Damon 5 tells me, and I can quite 
believe him ; he says that when modes of music change, the 
fundamental laws of the State always change with them. 6 

Yes, said Adeimantus ; and you may add my suffrage to 
Damon's and your own. 

Then, I said, our guardians must lay the foundations of the 
fortress in music ? 

Yes, he said ; and license easily creeps in ; there can be no 
doubt of that. 

Yes, I replied, in a kind of play, and at first sight appears 
harmless. 

4 See Book V. , 441-466. 

5 Damon : a distinguished musician of Athens, known also as a Sophist. 

6 The Greeks had originally three musical modes which differed in key. 
They believed that each of these had " its own peculiar emotional influ- 
ence." See Grote, I., 644. Compare the saying: Let me make a people's 
songs and I care not who may make its laws. 



THE REPUBLIC 257 

Why, he said, and there is no harm ; but the evil is, that 
little by little this spirit of license, rinding a home, penetrates 
into manners and customs ; thence, issuing with greater force, 
invades agreements between man and man, and from agree- 
ments proceeds to laws and constitutions, in utter reckless- 
ness, and ends by an overthrow of things in general, private 
as well as public. 

Is all that true? I said. 

That is my belief, he replied. 

Then, as I was saying, our youth should be educated in a 
stricter rule from the first, for if education becomes lawless, 
and the youths themselves become lawless, they can 
never grow up into well-conducted and virtuous citi- 4 5 
zens. 

Very true, he said. 

And the education must begin with their plays. The spirit 
of law must be imparted to them in music, and the spirit of 
order, instead of disorder, will attend them in all their ac- 
tions, and make them grow, and if there be any part of the 
State which has fallen down, will raise that up again. 

Very true, he said. 

Thus educated, they will have no difficulty in rediscovering 
any lesser matters which have been neglected by their prede- 
cessors. 

What do you mean ? 

I mean such things as these : when the young are to be 
silent before their elders ; how they are to show respect to 
them by sitting down and rising up ; what honor is due to 
parents ; what garments or shoes are to be worn ; what mode 
of wearing the hair is to be the pattern ; and the fashions of 
the body, and manners in general. You would agree with me 
in that ? 

Yes. 

You think, as I am disposed to think, that there would be 
small wisdom in legislating about them ; for that is never done, 
nor are any precise verbal enactments about them likely to be 
lasting. 

Impossible. 

We may assume, Adeimantus, that the direction in which 
education starts a man will determine his future life. Does 
not like always invite like? 

l 7 



258 PLATO THE TEACHER 

No question. 

Ending, as you may say, at last in some one rare and grand 
result, which may be good, and may be the reverse of good. 

That is not to be denied, he answered. 

And for this reason, I said, I shall not attempt further to 
legislate about them. 

Naturally enough, he replied. 

Well, I said, and about the business of the agora, 7 or 
about bargains and contracts with artisans ; about insult and 
injury, or the order in which causes are to be tried, and how 
judges are to be appointed ; there may also be questions about 
impositions and exactions of market and harbor dues, and in 
general touching the administration of markets or towns or 
harbors and the like. But, O heavens ! shall we condescend 
to legislate on any of these particulars ? 

I think, he said, that there is no need to impose them by 
law on good men ; most of the necessary regulations they will 
find out soon enough for themselves. 

Yes, I said, my friend, if God will only guard the laws that 
we have given them. 

And without divine help, said Adeimantus, they will go on 
forever making and mending their laws and their lives in the 
hope of attaining perfection. 

You would compare them, I said, to those invalids who, 
having no self-restraint, will not leave off their habits of in- 
temperance ? 

Exactly. 

Yes, I said ; and how charming those people are ! they are 
always doctoring and increasing and complicating their dis- 
orders, fancying they will be cured by some nostrum which 
somebody advises them to try, — never getting better, but 
rather growing worse. 

, That is often the case, he said, with invalids such as 
you describe. 

Yes, I replied ; they have a charming way of going on, and 
the charming thing is that they deem him their worst enemy 
who tells them the truth, which is simply that, unless they give 
up eating and drinking and lusting and sleeping, neither drug 
nor cautery nor spell nor amulet nor anything will be of any 
avail. 

7 See Apology, note 2. 



THE REPUBLIC 259 

Charming ! he replied. I see nothing charming in going 
into a passion with a man who tells you what is good. 

These gentlemen, I said, do not seem to be in your good 
graces ? 

No, indeed. 

Nor would a State which acts like them stand high in your 
estimation. And are not ill-governed States like them, which 
begin by proclaiming to their citizens that no one, under pen- 
alty of death, shall alter the constitution of the State, while he 
who conforms to their politics and most sweetly serves them, 
who indulges them and fawns upon them and has a presenti- 
ment of their wishes, and is skillful in gratifying them, he is 
esteemed as their good man, and the wise and mighty one who 
is to be held in honor by them ? 

Yes, he said ; the States are as bad as the men ; and I am 
far from approving them. 

But do you not admire, I said, the coolness and dexterity of 
these ready ministers of political corruption ? 

Yes, he said, that I do ; but not of all of them, for there are 
some whom the applause of the multitude has deluded into the 
belief that they are really statesmen, and they are not much to 
be admired. 

What do you mean ? I said ; you should have more feeling 
for them. When a man cannot measure, and a great many 
others who cannot measure declare that he is four cubits high, 
can he help believing them ? 

He cannot. 

Well, then, do not be angry with them ; for are they not as 
good as a play, trying their hand at legislation, and always 
fancying that by reforming they will make an end of the dis- 
honesties and rascalities of mankind, not knowing that they 
are in reality cutting away the heads of a hydra ? 8 

Yes, he said ; that is a very just description of them. 

I conceive, I said, that the true legislator will not trouble 
himself with enactments of this sort in an ill-ordered any 
more than in a well ordered State ; for in the former they are 
useless, and in the latter there will be no difficulty in invent- 
ing them, and many of them will naturally flow out of our 
institutions. 

8 In Greek mythology, a monstrous water-serpent with many heads, each, 
of which, if cut off, was succeeded by two others. 



26o PLATO THE TEACHER 

What, then, he said, is still remaining to us of the work of 
legislation ? 

Nothing to us, I replied ; but to Apollo, the god of Delphi, 
there remains the ordering of the greatest and noblest and 
chiefest of all. 

What is that ? he said. 

The institution of temples and sacrifices, and in general the 
service of gods, demigods, and heroes ; also the ordering of 
the repositories of the dead, and the rites which have to be 
observed in order to propitiate the inhabitants of the world 
below. For these are matters of which we are ignorant, and 
as foundersof a city we should be unwise in trusting to any in- 
terpreter but our ancestral deity. He is the god who sits in 
the centre, on the navel of the earth, and interprets them to 
all mankind. 9 

You are right, he said ; we will do as you propose. 

But where, amid all this, is justice? Son of Ariston, tell 
me where. Now that our city has been made habitable, light 
a candle and search, and get your brother and Polemarchus, 
and the rest of our friends, to help, and let us see whether we 
can discover the place of justice and injustice, and discern the 
difference between them, and find out which of them the man 
who would be happy should have as his portion, whether per- 
ceived or unperceived by gods and men. 

Nonsense, said Glaucon ; did you not promise to search 
yourself, saying that to desert justice in her need would be an 
impiety ? 

Very true, I said ; and as you remind me, I will be as good 
as my word ; but you must join. 

That we will, he replied. 

Well, then, I hope to make the discovery in this way. I 
mean to proceed by a method of residues, beginning with the 
assumption that our State, if rightly ordered, is perfect. 

That is most certain. 

And being perfect, our State is wise and valiant and tem- 
perate and just. 

That is also clear. 

8 It was customary to consult the oracle of Apollo at Delphi (see Apology, 
note 12), about the founding of cities. " Delphi, or rather a round stone in 
the Delphic temple, was called navel, as marking the middle point of the 
earth." (L. and S.) A 



THE REPUBLIC 26l 

And of whatever is known, that which is unknown will be 
the residue ; this is the next step. 

Very good. 

Suppose the number of terms to be four, and we were 
searching for one of them, that one might be known to us at 
first, and there would be no further trouble ; or, if we knew 
the other three first, and could eliminate them, then the fourth 
would clearly be the remainder. 

Very true, he said. 

And is not this the method to be pursued about the virtues, 
which are also four in number? 

Clearly. 

First among the virtues found in the State wisdom comes 
into view, and in this I detect a certain peculiarity. 

What is that ? 

The State that we have been describing is said to be wise as 
being good in counsel : that is true? 

Yes. 

And good counsel is clearly a kind of knowledge, for not by 
ignorance, but by knowledge, do men counsel well ? 

Clearly. 

And the kinds of knowledge in a State are many and di- 
verse ? 

Of course. 

There is the knowledge of the carpenter ; but is that the 
sort of knowledge which gives a city the title of wise and good 
in counsel ? 

Certainly not ; that would only give a city the reputation 
of skill in carpentering. 

Then a city is not to be called wise because possessed of 
knowledge which counsels for the best about wooden imple- 
ments? 

Certainly not. 

Nor by reason of a knowledge which advises about brazen 
implements, I said, nor as possessing any other similar knowl- 
edge? 

Not by reason of any of them, he said. 

Nor by reason of agricultural knowledge ; that would give 
the city the name of agriculture ? 

Yes, that is what I should suppose. 

Well, I said, and is there any knowledge in our recently- 



262 PLATO THE TEACHER 

founded State among any of the citizens which advises, not 
about any particular thing in the State, but about the whole 
State, and considers what may be regarded as the best policy, 
both internal and external ? 

There certainly is. 

And what is this knowledge, and among whom found ? I 
asked. 

This is the knowledge of the guardians, he replied, and is 
found among those whom we were just now describing as per- 
fect guardians. 

And is there any name which the city derives from the pos- 
session of this sort of knowledge ? 

The name of good in counsel and truly wise. 

And do you suppose that there will be as many of these true 
guardians as there are blacksmiths in a city? 

No, he replied ; the blacksmiths will be far more numer- 
ous. 

Will they not be the smallest of all the classes who receive 
a name from the profession of some kind of knowledge ? 

Much the smallest. 

And by reason of this smallest part or class of a State, which 
is the governing and presiding class, and of the knowledge 
which resides in them, the whole State, being in the 
order of nature, will be called wise ; and nature appears 
to have ordained that this, which has the only knowledge 
worthy to be called knowledge, should be the smallest of all 
classes. 

Most true, he said. 

Thus, then, I said, the nature and place in the State of one 
of the four virtues has somehow been discovered. 

I am sure, he said, that the discovery is to my mind quite 
satisfactory. 

Again, I said, there is no difficulty in seeing the nature of 
courage, and in what part that quality resides which gives the 
name of courageous to the State. 

How do you mean ? 

Why, I said, every one who calls any State courageous or 
cowardly, will be thinking of that part which rights and goes 
to battle on the State's behalf. 

No one, he replied, would ever think of any other. 

The rest of the citizens may be courageous or may be 



THE REPUBLIC 263 

cowardly, but that, as I conceive, will not have the effect of 
making the city either one or the other. 

Certainly not. 

The city will be courageous in virtue of a portion of the city 
in which there resides a never- failing quality preservative of the 
opinion which the legislator inculcated about the right sort of 
fear ; and this is what you term courage. 

I should like to hear what you are saying once more, for I 
do not think that I perfectly understand you. 

I mean, I said, that courage is a kind of preservation. 

What kind of preservation ? 

The preservation, I said, of the opinion about the nature and 
manner of dangers which the law implants through education ; 
and I mean by the word " never-failing," to intimate that in 
pleasure or in pain, or under the influence of desire or fear, a 
man preserves, and does not lose this opinion. Shall I give 
you an illustration of my meaning ? 

If you will. 

You know, I said, that the dyers, when they want to dye 
wool for making the true sea- purple, begin by selecting their 
white color first ; this they prepare and dress with no slight 
circumstance, in order that the white ground may take the pur- 
ple hue in full perfection. The dyeing then proceeds ; and 
whatever is dyed in this manner becomes a fast color, and no 
washing with lyes or without lyes can take away the bloom of 
the color. I dare say that you know how these, or indeed 
any colors, look when the ground has not been duly pre- 
pared ? 

Yes, he said ; I know that they have a washed-out and ridic- 
ulous appearance. 

Then now, I said, you will understand what our object was in 
selecting our soldiers, and educating them in music and gym- 
nastic ; we were contriving influences which would pre- 
pare them to take the dye of the laws in perfection, and 
the color of their opinions about dangers and every other opin- 
ion was to be indelibly fixed by their nurture and training, 
and not to be washed away by any such potent lyes as pleas- 
ure, — mightier agent far in washing the soul than any soda 
or lye ; and sorrow, fear, and desire mightier solvents than 
any others. And this sort of universal preserving power of 
true opinion in conformity with law about real and false dan- 



264 PLATO THE TEACHER 

gers, I call and maintain to be courage, unless you can suggest 
another view. 

But I have no other to suggest, and I suppose that you mean 
to exclude mere uninstructed courage, such as that of a wild 
beast or of a slave, — this, in your judgment, is not courage in 
conformity with law, and ought to have another name. 

That is as you say. 

Then I may infer that this is courage ? 

Why, yes, said I, that you may infer, and if you add the 
word "political," you will not be far wrong: hereafter we 
may pursue that inquiry further, but at present we are seeking 
not for courage but justice, and with a view to this there is 
nothing more wanted. 

You are right, he replied. 

Two virtues remain to be discovered in the State, — first, 
temperance, and then justice, which is the great object of our 
search. 

Very true. 

Now, can we find justice without troubling ourselves about 
temperance ? 

I do not know how that can be accomplished, he said, nor 
do I desire that justice should be brought to light, and tem- 
perance lost sight of ; and therefore I wish you would do me 
the favor of considering temperance first. 

Certainly, I replied, I cannot be wrong in granting you a 
favor. 

Then do as I ask, he said. 

Yes, I replied, I will do as you ask, and next consider tem- 
perance ; this, as far as I can see at present, has more of the 
nature of symphony and harmony than the preceding. 

How is that ? he asked. 

Temperance, I replied, is, as I conceive, a sort of order and 
control of certain pleasures and desires ; this is implied in the 
saying of a man being his own master; and there are other 
traces of the same notion. 

No doubt, he said. 

There is something ridiculous in the expression "master of 
himself; " for the master is also the slave and the slave the 
master ; and in all these modes of speaking the same 
person is predicated. 

Certainly. 



THE REPUBLIC 265 

But the real meaning of the expression, I believe, is that the 
human soul has a better principle, and has also a worse prin- 
ciple ; and when the better principle controls the worse, then 
a man is said to be master of himself; and this is certainly a 
term of praise : but when, owing to evil education or associa- 
tion, the better principle, which is less, is overcome by the 
worse principle, which is greater, this is censured ; and he 
who is in this case is called the slave of self and unprin- 
cipled. 

Yes, he said, there is reason in that. 

And now, I said, look at our newly-created State, and there 
you will find one of these two conditions realized ; for the 
State, as you will acknowledge, may be justly called master of 
self, if the words temperance and self-mastery truly express the 
rule of the better over the worse. 

Yes, he said, I have looked, and perceive the truth of what 
you say. 

Moreover, I said, the pleasures and desires and pains, which 
are many and various, are found in children and women and 
servants, and in the lower classes of the free citizens. 

Certainly, he said. 

Whereas the simple and moderate desires which follow rea- 
son, and are under the guidance of mind and true opinion, are 
confined to a few, being those who are the best born and the 
best educated. 

Very true, he said. 

And these also, I said, as you may perceive, have a place in 
our State, but the meaner desires of the many are held down 
by the virtuous desires and wisdom of the few. 

That I perceive, he said. 

Then if there be any city which may be described as master 
of pleasures and desires, and master of self, ours may claim 
that designation? 

Certainly, he replied. 

And also that of temperate, and for the same reasons ? 

Yes, he said. 

And if there be any State in which rulers and subjects will 
be agreed about the question who are to rule, that again will 
be our State ? 

No doubt at all of that. 

And the citizens being thus agreed among themselves, in 



266 PLATO THE TEACHER 

which class will temperance be found, — in the rulers or in the 
subjects ? 

In both, as I should imagine, he replied. 

Do you observe, I said, that we were pretty right in our an- 
ticipation that temperance was a sort of harmony? 

Why do you say that ? 

Why, because temperance is unlike courage and wisdom, each 
of which resides in a portion of the State only, which the one 
makes wise and the other valiant ; but that is not the way 
4 with temperance, which extends to the whole, and runs 
through the notes of the scale, and produces a harmony of the 
weaker and the stronger and the middle class, whether you 
suppose them to be stronger or weaker in wisdom or strength 
or numbers or wealth, or whatever else may be the measure of 
them. Most truly, then, do we describe temperance as the 
natural harmony of master and slaves, both in States and in- 
dividuals, in which the subjects are as willing to obey as the 
governors are to rule. 

I entirely agree with you. 

And so, I said, three of the virtues have been discovered in 
our State, and this is the form in which they appear. There 
remains the last element of virtue in a State, which must be 
justice, if we only knew what that was. 

That, he said, is obvious. 

The time then has arrived, Glaucon, when, like huntsmen, 
we should surround the cover, and look sharp that justice does 
not slip away, and pass out of sight, and get lost ; for there can 
be no doubt that we are in the right direction ; only try and 
get a sight of her, and if you come within view first, let me 
know. 

I wish that there were any chance of that, he said ; but I 
believe that you will find in me a follower who has just eyes 
enough to see what you show him ; that is as much as I am 
good for. 

Offer up a prayer, I said, and follow. 

I will follow, he said, but you must show me the way. 

Here is no path, I said, and the wood is dark and perplex- 
ing, still we must push on. 

Let us push on then. 

Halloo ! I said, I begin to perceive indications of a track, and 
I believe that the quarry will not escape. 



THE REPUBLIC 267 

That is good news, he said. 

Truly, I said, we are very stupid. 

Why so ? 

Why, my good sir, I said, when we first began, ages ago, 
there lay justice rolling at our feet, and we, fools that we were, 
failed to see her, like people who go about looking for what 
they have in their hands : And that was the way with us ; we 
looked away into the far distance, and I suspect this to have 
been the reason why we missed her. 

What do you mean ? 

I mean to say that we have already had her on our lips and 
in our ears, and failed to recognize her. 

I get impatient at the length of your exordium. 

Well, then, say whether I am right or not ; you will re- 
member the original principle of which we spoke at the foun- 
dation of the State, that every man, as we often insisted, 
should practice one thing only, that being the thing 4 
to which his nature was most perfectly adapted ; now justice 
is either this or a part of this. 

Yes, that was often repeated by us. 

Further, we affirmed that justice was doing one's own busi- 
ness, and not being a busybody ; that was often said by us, 
and many others have said the same. 

Yes, that was said by us. 

Then this doing one's own business in a certain way may be 
assumed to be justice. Do you know why I say this ? 

I do not, and should like to be told. 

Because I think that this alone remains in the State when 
the other virtues of temperance and courage and wisdom are 
abstracted ; and this is the ultimate cause and condition of the 
existence of all of them, and while remaining in them is also 
their preservative ; and we were saying that if the three were 
discovered by us, justice would be the fourth or remaining one. 

That follows of necessity. 

Still, I said, if a question shoufiS^arise as to which of these 
four qualities contributed most by their presence to the excel- 
lence of the State, whether the agreement of rulers and sub- 
jects, or the preservation in the soldiers of the opinion which 
the law ordains about the true nature of dangers, or wisdom 
and watchfulness in the rulers would claim the palm, or 
whether this which I am about to mention, and which is found 



268 PLATO THE TEACHER 

in children and women, bond and free, artisan, ruler, subject, 
is not the one which conduces most to the excellence of the 
State, — this quality, I mean, of everyone doing his own work, 
and not being a busybody, — the question would not be easily 
determined. 

Certainly, he replied, that would be difficult to determine. 

Then the power of each individual in the State to do his 
own work appears to compete in the scale of political virtue 
with wisdom, temperance, and courage? 

Yes, he said. 

And the virtue which enters into this competition is justice ? 

Exactly. 

Look at this in another light. Are not the rulers in a State 
those to whom you would entrust the office of determining 
causes ? 

Certainly. 

And they will decide on the principle that individuals are 
neither to take what is another's nor to be deprived of what is 
their own ; that will be the principle at which they will aim ? 

Yes; that will be their principle. 

And that is a just principle? 

Yes. 

Then on this view also justice will be admitted to be the 
having and doing what is a man's own, and belongs to him ? 

That is true. 

Think, now, and say whether you agree with me. Suppose 
a carpenter to be doing the business of a cobbler, or a cobbler 
of a carpenter ; and suppose them to exchange imple- 
44 ments or prerogatives, or the same person to be doing 
the work of both ; do you think that any great harm would 
happen to the State ? 

Not at all, he said. 

But when the cobbler leaves his last, and he or any other 
whom nature designed to be a trader, and whose heart is lifted 
up by wealth or strength or numbers, or any like advantage, 
attempts to force his way into the class of warriors, or a war- 
rior into that of legislators and guardians, for which he is un- 
fitted, or when one man is trader, legislator, and warrior all at 
once, then I think you will agree with me that this inter- 
change of duties and implements and this meddling of one 
with another is the ruin of the State. 



THE REPUBLIC 269 

Most true. 

Then, said I, as there are three distinct classes, any med- 
dling of them with one another, or the change of one into an- 
other, is the greatest harm to the State, and may be most justly 
termed evil-doing ? 

Precisely. 

And the greatest degree of evil-doing to one's own city you 
would characterize as injustice? 

Certainly. 

This then is injustice ; and let us once more repeat the 
thesis in the opposite form. When the trader, the auxiliary, 
and the guardian do their own business, that is justice, and 
will make the city just. 

I think that is true, he said. 

Let us not, I said, be over-positive as yet ; but if, on trial, 
this conception of justice be verified in the individual as well 
as in the State, then there will be no longer any room for 
doubt; but, if not, there must be another inquiry. At pres- 
ent, however, let us finish the old investigation, which we be- 
gan, as you remember, under the impression that, if we could 
first examine justice on the larger scale, there would be less 
difficulty in recognizing her in the individual. That larger 
example appeared to be the State, and we made the best that 
we could, knowing well that in the good State justice would 
be found to exist. Let us now apply what we found there to 
the individual, and if they agree, well and good; or, if there 
be a difference in the individual, we will come back to the 
State and have another trial of the theory. The friction of 
the two when rubbed together may possibly strike a 
light in which justice will shine forth, and the vision 
which is then revealed we will fix in our souls. 

That is the right way, he said ; let us do as you say. 

I proceeded to ask : When two things, a greater and less, 
are called by the same name, are they like or unlike in so far 
as they are called the same ? 

Like, he replied. 

The just man then, in being just, and in reference to the 
mere principle of justice, will be like the just State? 

He will. 

And a State was thought by us to be just when the three 
classes in the State did their own business ; and also thought 



270 PLATO THE TEACHER 

to be temperate and valiant and wise by reason of certain 
other affections and qualities of these same classes? 

True, he said. 

And so of the individual ; we shall be right in arguing that 
he has these same principles in his own soul, and may fairly 
receive the same appellations as possessing the affections which 
correspond to them ? 

Certainly, he said. 

Once more then, O my friend, we have alighted upon an 
easy question — whether the soul has these three principles or 
not? 

An easy question ! Nay, rather, Socrates, the proverb holds 
that hard is the good. 

Very true, I said ; and I confess that the method which we 
are employing, in my judgment, seems to be altogether inade- 
quate to the accurate solution of this question ; for the true 
method is another and a longer one. Still we may arrive at a 
solution not below the level of the previous inquiry. 

May we not be satisfied with that ? he said : under the cir- 
cumstances, I am quite content. 

I too, I replied, shall be extremely well satisfied. 

Then faint not in pursuing the speculation, he said. 

Can I be wrong, I said, in acknowledging that in the indi- 
vidual there are the same principles and habits which there are 
in the State ? for if they did not pass from one to the other, 
whence did they come ? Take the quality of spirit or passion ; 
there would be something ridiculous in thinking that this qual- 
ity, which is characteristic of the Thracians, Scythians, 10 and 
in general of the northern nations, when found in States, does 
not originate in the individuals who compose them ; and the 
same may be said of the love of knowledge, which is the special 
characteristic of our part of the world, or the love of 
430- money, which may, with equal truth, be attributed to 
the Phoenicians and Egyptians. 11 

Exactly, he said. ' 

There is no difficulty in understanding this. 

10 The names Thracia (thra'shi-a) and Scythia (Sy'thi-a) were applied to 
various regions at different periods. Here the reference is probably to re- 
gions on the west and north coasts of the Black Sea, whose inhabitants were 
semi-civilized, fierce, and war-like. 

11 The Phoenicians and Egyptians were the principal commercial peoples 
of antiquity with whom the Greeks were acquainted. 



THE REPUBLIC 27 1 

None whatever. 

But the difficulty begins as soon as we raise the question 
whether these principles are three or one ; whether, that is to 
say, we learn with one part of our nature, are angry with an- 
other, and with a third part desire the satisfaction of our natural 
appetites ; or whether the whole soul comes into play in each 
sort of action — to determine that is the difficulty. 

Yes, he said, that is the difficulty. 

Then let us now try and determine whether they are the 
same or different. 

[The same thing cannot at the same time, with the same 
part, act in contrary ways, about the same. If therefore we 
find in ourselves a principle which impels us to eat and drink 
and indulge in other passions, and another principle which at 
the same time restrains us from these indulgences, these two 
principles, the impelling and the restraining, must be distinct. 
The principle which impels us we may call the irrational or 
appetitive, and the principle which restrains we may call the 
rational. Socrates continues :] 

Then let these be marked out as the two principles which 
there are existing in the soul. 

And what shall we say of passion, or spirit ? Is that a third, 
or akin to one of the preceding ? 

I should be inclined to say — akin to desire. 

Well, I said, there is a story which I remember to have 
heard, and on which I rely. The story is that Leontius, the 
son of Aglaion, 12 was coming up from the Piraeus, under the 
north wall on the outside, and observed some dead bodies 
lying on the ground by the executioner. He felt a longing 
desire to see them, and also a disgust and abhorrence of them ; 
for a time he turned away and averted his eyes, and then, 
suddenly overcome by the impulse, forced them open, 
and ran up, saying (to his eyes), Take your fill, ye wretches, 
of the fair sight. 

I have heard the story myself, he said. 

Now this seems to imply that anger differs from the desires, 
and is sometimes at war with them. 

That is implied, he said. 

12 Leontius (le-6n'shi-us). Aglaion (ag-li'yon). 



272 PLATO THE TEACHER 

And are there not many other cases in which we observe 
that, when a man's desires violently prevail over his reason, he 
reviles himself, and is angry at the violence within him, and 
that in this struggle, which is like the struggle of actions in a 
State, his spirit is on the side of his reason. But that the 
passionate or spirited element should side with the desires 
when reason decides that she is not to be opposed, this sort 
of thing, I believe, you will say that you never observed oc- 
curring in yourself, nor, as I think, in any one else? 

Certainly not, he said. 

Suppose, I said, that a man thinks he has done a wrong to 
another : the nobler he is the less able he is to get into a state 
of righteous indignation ; his anger refuses to be excited at the 
hunger or cold or other suffering, which he deems that the in- 
jured person may justly inflict upon him ? 

True, he said. 

But when he thinks that he is the sufferer of the wrong, then 
he boils and chafes, and is on the side of what he believes to 
be justice ; and because he suffers hunger or cold or other pain 
he is only the more determined to persevere and conquer ; he 
must do or die, and will not desist, until he hears the voice of 
the shepherd, that is, reason, bidding his dog bark no more. 

That is a very good illustration, he replied ; and in our 
State as we were saying, the auxiliaries were to be dogs, and 
to hear the voice of the rulers, who are their shepherds. 

I perceive, I said, that you quite understand me ; there is, 
however, a further point which I would wish you to consider. 

What may that be ? 

You remember that passion or spirit appeared at first sight 
to be a sort of desire, but now we should say the contrary ; 
for in the conflict of the soul spirit is arrayed on the side of 
the rational principle. 

Most assuredly. 

But a further question arises. Is spirit different from reason 
also, or only a sort of reason ; in which case, instead of three 
principles in the soul, there will be only two, the rational and 
the concupiscent ; or rather, as the State was composed 
of three classes, traders, auxiliaries, counsellors, so may 
there not be in the individual soul a third element which is 
passion or spirit, and which is the auxiliary of reason when 
not corrupted by education ? 



THE REPUBLIC 273 

Yes, he said, there must be a third. 

Yes, I replied, if passion, which has already been shown to 
be different from desire, turn out also to be different from 
reason. 

But that is obvious, he said, and is proved in the case of 
young children, who are full of spirit almost as soon as they 
are born, whereas some of them never seem to attain to the 
use of reason, and a good many only late in life. 

Excellent, I said, and the same thing is seen in brute animals, 
which is a further proof of the truth of what you are saying. 
And Homer, whose words we have already quoted, may be 
again summoned as a witness, where he says, — 

" He smote his breast, and thus rebuked his soul; " 

for in those lines Homer has clearly supposed the power which 
reasons about the better and worse to be different from the 
unreasoning principle which is the subject of the rebuke. 

That is true, he said. 

And now, after much tossing in the argument, we have 
reached land, and are fairly agreed that the principles which 
exist in the State, like those in the individual, are three in 
number, and the same with them. 

Exactly. 

And must we not infer that the individual is wise in the 
same way, and in virtue of the same quality which makes the 
State wise? 

Certainly. 

And the same quality which constitutes bravery in the State 
constitutes bravery in the individual, and the same is true of 
all the other virtues ? 

Assuredly. 

And the individual will be acknowledged by us to be just 
in the same way that the State was just ? 

That will also follow of course. 

And the justice of the State consisted, as we very well re- 
member, in each of the three classes doing the work of that 
class ? 

We are not very likely to forget that, he said. 

And we must also remember that the individual whose sev- 
eral principles do their own work will be just, and will do his 
own work ? 
18 



274 PLATO THE TEACHER 

Yes, he said, we must remember that. 

And ought not the rational principle, which is wise, and has 
the care of the whole soul, to rule, and the passionate or spir- 
ited principle to be the subject and ally ? 

Certainly. 

And, as you were saying, the harmonizing influence of 

music and gymnastic will bring them into accord, nerving and 

educating the reason with noble words and lessons, and 

softening and consoling and civilizing the wildness of 

passion with harmony and rhythm ? 

Quite true, he said. 

And these two, thus nurtured and educated, and having 
learned truly to know their own functions, will set a rule over 
the concupiscent part of every man, which is the largest and 
most insatiable ; over this they will set a guard, lest, waxing 
great with the fullness of bodily pleasures, as they are termed, 
and no longer confined to her own sphere, the concupiscent 
soul should attempt to enslave and rule those who are not her 
natural-born subjects, and overturn the whole life of man ? 

Very true, he said. 

The two will be the defenders of the whole soul and the 
whole body against attacks from without; the one counseling, 
and the other fighting under the command of their leader, and 
courageously executing his counsels. 

True. 

And he is to be deemed courageous who, having the element 
of passion working in him, preserves, in the midst of pain and 
pleasure, the notion of danger which reason prescribes? 

Right, he replied. 

And he is wise who has in him that little part which rules 
and gives orders ; that part being supposed to have a knowl- 
edge of what is for the interest of each and all of the three 
parts ? 

Assuredly. 

And would you not say that he is temperate who has these 
same elements in friendly harmony, in whom the one ruling 
principle of reason, and the two subject ones of spirit and 
desire are equally agreed that reason ought to rule, and do not 
rebel ? 

Certainly, he said, that is the true account of temperance 
whether in the State or individual. 



THE REPUBLIC 275 

And surely, I said, a man will be just in the manner of 
which we have several times already spoken and no other ? 

That is very certain. 

And is the edge of justice blunted in the individual, or is 
there any reason why our definition of justice should not apply 
equally to the individual and to the State ? 

None in my judgment, he said. 

Because, I said, if any doubt is still lingering in our minds, 
a few commonplace instances will satisfy us of the truth of 
this. 

What sort of instances do you mean ? 

Why, for example, I said, who would imagine that the just 
State, or the man who is trained in the principles of such a 
State, would be more likely than the unjust to make 
away with a deposit of gold or silver? 

No one, as I should suppose, he replied. 

Will such an one, I said, ever be guilty of sacrilege or theft, 
or treachery either to his friends or to his country ? 

That will be far from him. 

Neither will he ever break faith where there have been oaths 
or agreements ? 

Impossible. 

No one will be less likely to commit adultery, or to dis- 
honor his father and mother, or to fail in his religious duties ? 

No one. 

And the reason of this is that each part of him is doing his 
own business, whether in ruling or being ruled ? 

That is the truth. 

Are you satisfied then that the quality which makes such 
men and such States is justice, or do you hope to discover some 
other ? 

Not I, indeed. 

Then our dream has been realized ; and as we were saying 
at the beginning of our work of construction, some divine 
power must have conducted us to a sort of first principle or 
form of justice — that suspicion of ours has been now verified? 

Yes, certainly. 

And the division of labor which required the carpenter and 
the shoemaker and the rest of the citizens to be doing each 
his own business, and not another's, was a kind of shadow of 
justice, and therefore of use ? 



276 PLATO THE TEACHER 

Clearly. 

And justice was the reality of which this was the semblance, 
dealing, however, not with the outward man, but with the in- 
ward, which is the true self and concernment of a man : for 
the just man does not permit the several elements within him 
to meddle with one another, or any of them to do the work of 
others, but he sets in order his own inner life, and is his own 
master, and at peace with himself; and when he has bound 
together the three principles within him, which may be com- 
pared to the middle, higher, and lower divisions of the scale, 
and the intermediate intervals — when he has bound together 
all these, and is no longer many, but has become one entirely 
temperate and perfectly adjusted nature, then he will begin to 
act, if he has to act, whether in a matter of property, or in 
the treatment of the body, or some affair of politics or private 
business ; in all which cases he will think and call just and 
good action that which preserves and cooperates with this con- 
dition, and the knowledge which presides over this wisdom ; 
and unjust action, that which at any time destroys this, and 
the opinion which presides over unjust action, igno- 
ranee. 

That is the precise truth, Socrates. 

Very good ; and if we were to say that we had discovered 
the just man and the just State, and the place of justice in each 
of them, that would not be a very vain boast ? 

No, indeed. 

May we be so bold then as to say this ? 

Let us be so bold, he replied. 

And now, I said, injustice has to be considered. 

That is evident. 

Then, assuming the threefold division of the soul, must not 
injustice be a kind of quarrel between these three — a meddle- 
someness, and interference, and rising up of a part of the soul 
against the whole soul, an assertion of unlawful authority, 
which is made by a rebellious subject against a true prince, of 
whom he is the natural vassal — that is the sort of thing ; the 
confusion and error of these parts or elements is injustice and 
intemperance and cowardice and ignorance, and in general all 
vice? 

Exactly so, he said. 

And if the nature of justice and injustice be known, then the 



THE REPUBLIC 277 

meaning of acting unjustly and being unjust, or, again, of act- 
ing justly, will also be perfectly clear ? 

What do you mean ? he said. 

Why, I said, they are like disease and health ; being in the 
soul just what disease and health are in the body. 

How is that ? he said. 

Why, I said, that which is healthy causes health, and that 
which is unhealthy causes disease. 

Yes. 

And just actions cause justice, and unjust actions cause in- 
justice? 

That is certain. 

And the creation of health is the creation of a natural order 
and government of one another in the parts of the body ; and 
the creation of disease is the creation of a state of things in 
which they are at variance with this natural order ? 

True. 

And is not this equally true of the soul ? Is not the crea- 
tion of justice the creation of a natural order and government 
of one another in the parts of the soul, and the creation of in- 
justice the opposite? 

Exactly, he said. 

Then virtue is the health and beauty and well-being of the 
soul, and vice is the disease and weakness and deformity of 
the soul? 

True. 

And good practices lead to virtue, and evil practices to vice? 

Assuredly. 

Still our old question of the comparative advantage of justice 
and injustice has not been answered : Which is the more 
profitable, to be just and do justly, and practice virtue, 
whether seen or unseen of gods and men, or to be unjust 4 
and do unjustly, if only unpunished and unimproved? 

In my judgment, Socrates, the question has now become 
ridiculous. If, when the bodily constitution is gone, life is 
no longer endurable, though pampered with every sort of 
meats and drinks, and having all wealth and all power, shall 
we be told that life is worth having when the very essence of 
the vital principle is undermined and corrupted, even though 
a man be allowed to do whatever he pleases, if at the same 
time he is forbidden to escape from vice and injustice, or at- 



278 PLATO THE TEACHER 

tain justice and virtue, seeing that we now know the true 
nature of each? 

Yes, I said, that is ridiculous, as you say. Still, as we are 
near the spot at which we may see the truth with our own eyes, 
let us not faint by the way. 

Certainly not, he replied. 

Come hither then, I said, ascend the hill which overhangs 
the city, and see the various forms of vice. 

I am following you, he replied : proceed. 

I said, We seem to have reached a summit of speculation 
from which you may look down and see the single form of 
virtue, and the forms of vice innumerable ; there being four 
special ones which are deserving of note. 

What do you mean ? he said. 

I mean, I replied, that there appear to be as many forms of 
the soul as there are forms of the State. 

How many? 

There are five of the State, and five of the soul, I said. 

What are they ? 

The first, I said, is that which we have been describing, and 
which may be said to have two names, monarchy and aristoc 
racy, 13 according as rule is exercised by one or many. 

True, he replied. 

But I regard this as one form only ; for whether the govern- 
ment is in the hands of one or many, if the governors have 
been trained in the manner which we have described, the fun- 
damental laws of the State will not be subverted. 

That is true, he replied. 

13 Monarchy : literally, government by one ; according to Plato, by the 
best one. 

Aristocracy : literally, government by the best ; so in Plato, the best be- 
ing the philosophers. 



THE REPUBLIC 279 



BOOK V 

Such is the good and true State, and the good and true 
man is of the same pattern ; and if this is right every other 
is wrong ; and the error is one which affects not only 
the ordering of the State, but also the regulation of the 449= 
individual soul. There are four forms of this evil. 

What are they? he said. 

I was proceeding to tell the order in which the four evil 
forms appeared to me to succeed one another, when Polemar- 
chus began to whisper to his neighbor Adeimantus, who was 
sitting just beyond him on the further side. He put out his 
hand, and took him by the coat at the upper part, by the 
shoulder, and drew him towards him, leaning forward himself 
and saying something, of which I only caught the words, 
" Shall we let him off, or what? " 

Certainly not, said Adeimantus, raising his voice. 

What is that, I said, which you refuse to let off? 

You, he said. 

Still I asked for an explanation. 

Why, he said, we think that you are lazy and mean to cheat 
us out of the best part of the story ; and you have a notion 
that you will not be detected in passing lightly over an entire 
and very important division of the subject, — that which re- 
lates to women and children, — as if there could be no man- 
ner of doubt in this instance also that " friends will have all 
things in common." 

[In what follows, Plato sets forth his view that property, 
wives, and children should be in common, and that men 
and women should have the same education. In the Laws 
he admits that communism is impracticable in this world, 
but says it is an ideal towards w T hich we should strive. " The 
first and highest form of the State and of the government 
and of the law is that in which there prevails most widely the 
ancient saying, that ' Friends have all things in common.' 
Whether there is now, or ever will be, this communion of 
women and children and of property, in which the private 
and individual is altogether banished from life and things 



280 PLATO THE TEACHER 

which are by nature private, such as eyes and ears and hands 
have become common, and in some way see and hear and 
act in common, and all men express praise and blame, 
and feel joy and sorrow, on the same occasions, and the laws 
unite the city to the utmost — whether all this is possible or 
not, I say that no man, acting upon any other principle, will 
ever constitute a State more exalted in virtue, or truer or bet- 
ter than this. Such a State, whether inhabited by gods or 
sons of gods, will make them blessed who dwell therein ; and 
therefore to this we are to look for the pattern of the State, 
and to cling to this, and, as far as possible, to seek for one 
which is like this." — Laws, V., 739.] 

The inquiry, I said, has yet to be made, whether such a 
community will be found possible — as among other animals so 
also among men — and if possible, in what way possible? 

That, he said, is just the question which I was going to ask. 

As to war, I said, there is no difficulty in seeing how that 
will be managed. 

How will that be? he asked. 

Why, of course, they will go on expeditions together ; and 
will take with them any of their children who are strong 
enough, that, like the children of artisans in general, they may 
look on at the work, which they will have to do when they are 
, grown up ; and besides looking on they will be able to 
4 ' help and be of use in war, and to wait upon their fathers 
and mothers. Did you never observe in the arts how the pot- 
ters' boys look on and help, long before they touch the 
wheel ? 

Certainly. 

And shall potters be more careful than our guardians in 
educating their children and giving them the opportunity of 
seeing and practicing their duties ? 

That would be ridiculous, he said. 

There is another thing ; which is the effect on the parents, 
with whom, as with other animals, the presence of their cubs 
will be the greatest incentive to valor. 

That is quite true, Socrates ; and yet if they are defeated, 
which may often happen in war, how great the danger is ! the 
children will be lost as well as their parents, and the State will 
never recover. 



THE REPUBLIC 28l 

True, I said ; but would you never allow them to run any 
risk? 

I am far from saying that. 

Well, but if they are ever to run a risk should they not 
run the risk when there is a chance of their improvement ? 

Clearly. 

Whether the future soldiers do or do not see war in the 
days of their youth is a very important matter, for the sake of 
which some risk may fairly be incurred. 

Yes, that is very important. 

Then, in the first place, we must provide that the children 
should see war, and then contrive a way of safety for them ; 
thus all will be well. 

True. 

Their parents may be supposed to have ordinary common 
sense and understanding of the risks of war ; they will know 
what expeditions are safe and what dangerous ? 

That may be supposed. 

And they will take them on the safe expeditions and be 
cautious about the dangerous ones ? 

True. 

And they will give them as commanders experienced veter- 
ans l who will be their leaders and teachers ? 

Yes, that is very proper. 

Still, the dangers of war cannot always be foreseen ; there 
is a good deal of chance about them ? 

True. 

Then against such chances the children must be at once fur- 
nished with wings, in order that in the hour of need they may 
fly away and escape. 

What do you mean? he said. 

I mean that we must mount them on horses in their earliest 
youth and take them on horseback to see war, in order that 
they may learn to ride ; the horses must not be spirited and 
warlike, but the most tractable and yet the swiftest that can be 
had. In this way they will get an excellent view of what is 
hereafter to be their business ; and if there is danger they ,„ 
have only to follow their elder leaders and escape. 

I believe that you are right, he said. 

Next, as to war ; what are to be the relations of your sol- 

1 Instead oi putting them in charge of slaves as was customary. 



282 PLATO THE TEACHER 

diers to one another and to their enemies ? I should be in- 
clined to propose that the soldier who leaves his rank or throws 
away his arms, or is guilty of any other act of cowardice, 2 
should be degraded into the rank of a husbandman or artisan. 
What do you think ? 

By all means, I should say. 

And he who allows himself to be taken prisoner may even 
be made a present of to his enemies ; he is their prey and they 
may do as they like with him. 

Certainly. 

But the hero who has distinguished himself, what shall be 
done to him ? In the first place, he shall receive honor in the 
army from his youthful comrades ; every one of them in suc- 
cession shall crown him. What do you say to that? 

I approve. 

And what do you say to his receiving the right hand of 
fellowship ? 

To that too, I agree. 

But I suspect that you will hardly agree to my next proposal. 

What is that ? 

That he should kiss and be kissed by them. 

That I entirely approve, and should be disposed to add an- 
other clause : Let no one whom he has a mind to kiss refuse 
to be kissed by him while the expedition lasts. So that if there 
be a lover in the army, whether his love be youth or maiden, 
he may be more eager to win the prize of valor. 

That is good, I said. That the brave man is to have more 
wives than others has been already determined ; and he is to 
have first choices in such matters more than others, in order 
that he may have as many children as possible. 

That was agreed. 

And the propriety of thus honoring brave youths may be 
proved out of Homer ; who tells how Ajax, 3 after he had dis- 
tinguished himself in battle, was rewarded with long chines, 
which seems to be a complement appropriate to a hero in the 
flower of his age, being not only a tribute of honor but also a 
very strengthening thing. 

2 The Greeks generally regarded an act of cowardice in battle as worse 
than death. It was in many cities punished by loss of citizenship. Bosan- 
quet quotes the Athenian's oath : " I will not disgrace my sacred shield. I will 
not desert my fellow-soldier in the ranks." 

3 See Apology, note 56. 



THE REPUBLIC 283 

Very true, he said. 

Then in this, I said, Homer will be our teacher ; and we 
too, at sacrifices and on the like occasions, will honor the 
brave with hymns — 

"And seats of precedence, and meats and flowing goblets; " 

not only honoring them, but also exercising them in virtue. 

That, he replied, is excellent. 

Good, I said ; and when a man dies gloriously in war shall 
we not say, in the first place, that he is of the golden race ? 4 

To be sure. 

Nay, have we not the authority of Hesiod for affirming that 
when they are dead — 

"They are holy angels upon the earth, authors of good, avert- • 
ers of ill, the guardians of speaking men? " ^ 

And we shall believe him. 

And suppose that we inquire of the god how we are to order 
the sepulture of divine and heroic personages, and do as he 
bids ? 5 

By all means. 

In ages to come we will do service to them and worship at 
their shrines as heroes. And not only they but all other bene- 
factors who die from age, or in any other way, shall be ad- 
mitted to the same honors. 

That is very right, he said. 

Next, how shall our soldiers treat their enemies ? What do 
you say about this ? 

In what respect do you mean ? 

I mean, shall they be made slaves ? Do you think that 
Hellenes ought to enslave Hellenes, 6 or allow others to enslave 
them, as far as they can help? Should not their custom be to 
spare them, considering the danger which there is that the 
whole race may one day fall under the yoke of the barbarians ? 

To spare them is infinitely better. 

Then no Hellene should be owned by them as a slave ; that 
is a rule which they will observe and advise the other Hellenes 
to observe. 

Certainly, he said ; that is the way to unite them against 

4 Compare myth at close of Book III. 

6 See Book IV., 427. 

6 At this time the Spartans held fellow Greeks in slavery. 



284 PLATO THE TEACHER 

the barbarians, and make them keep their hands off one an- 
other. Next as to the slain ; ought the conquerors, I said, to 
take anything but their armor ? Does not the practice of de- 
spoiling an enemy afford an excuse for not facing the battle? 
They skulk about the dead, pretending to be executing a duty, 
and many an army before now has been lost from this love of 
plunder. 

Very true. 

And is there not illiberality and avarice, and a degree of 
meanness and womanishness, in robbing a corpse, and making 
the dead body an enemy when the real enemy has walked 
away and left only his fighting gear behind him, — is not this 
rather like a dog who cannot get at his assailant, quarreling 
with the stones which strike him instead ? 

That is exactly parallel, he said. 

Then we must abstain from spoiling the dead or hindering 
their burial? 

Yes, he replied, that we must. 

Neither, as our object is to preserve good feeling among the 

Hellenes, shall we offer up the arms of Hellenes at any rate, 

at the temples of the gods ; nay, we have some reason 

to be afraid that such an offering may be a pollution 

unless commanded by the god himself. 

Very true. 

Again, as to the devastation of an Hellenic territory or the 
burning of houses, what is to be the practice ? 

Will you let me have the pleasure, he said, of hearing your 
opinion upon this? 

Both should be forbidden, in my judgment ; I would take 
the annual produce and no more. Would you wish to know 
why I say this ? 

Very much. 

Why, I imagine that as there is a difference in the names 
" discord " and " war," there is also a difference in their nat- 
ures ; the one is expressive of what is internal and domestic, 
the other of what is external and foreign ; and the first of 
these is properly termed discord, and only the second, war. 

That is a very just distinction, he replied. 

Shall I further add that the Hellenic race is all united by 
ties of blood and friendship, and alien and strange to the 
barbarians ? 



THE REPUBLIC 285 

Very good, he said. 

And therefore when Hellenes fight with barbarians and bar- 
barians with Hellenes, they will be described by us as being 
at war when they fight, and by nature in a state of war, and 
this kind of antagonism is to be called war ; but when Hellenes 
fight with one another we shall say that they are by nature 
friends, and at such a time Hellas is in a state of disorder and 
distraction, and enmity of that sort is to be called discord. 

In that view, I agree. 

Consider then, I said, when that which is now acknowl- 
edged by us to be discord occurs, and a city is divided, if 
both parties destroy the lands and burn the houses of one an- 
other, how wicked does the strife appear, — how can either of 
them be a lover of his country ? for no true lover of his coun- 
try would tear in pieces his nurse and mother : there might 
be reason in the conqueror depriving the conquered of their 
harvest, but still they would have the idea of peace in their 
hearts, and not of everlasting war. 

Yes, he said, that is a better temper than the other. 

And when you found a State, are you not intending to 
found an Hellenic State ? 

Of course, he replied. 

Then will not the citizens be good and civilized ? 

To be sure. 

And will they not be lovers of Hellas, and think of Hellas 
as their own land, and share in the common temples? 

Most certainly. 

And any difference that arises among Hellenes will be re- 
garded by them as discord only, — a quarrel among 
friends, which is not to be called a war? 47 

Certainly not. 

Then they will quarrel as those who intend some day to 
make up their quarrel ? 

Certainly. 

Correcting them in love, not punishing them with a view to 
enslaving or destroying them ; as correctors, not as enemies ? 

That is very true. 

And as they are Hellenes themselves they will not devastate 
Hellas, nor will they burn houses, nor ever suppose that the 
whole population of a city — men, women, and children — are 
equally their enemies, for they know that the guilt of war is 



286 PLATO THE TEACHER 

always confined to a few persons, and that the many are their 
friends. And for all these reasons they will be unwilling to 
waste their lands and raze their houses ; their enmity to them 
will only last until the many innocent sufferers have compelled 
the guilty few to give satisfaction ? 

I agree, he said, in thinking that these are the sort of rules 
which our citizens ought to observe towards their (Hellenic) 
adversaries ; in their wars with barbarians the present practice 
of the Hellenes to one another will afford a sufficient rule. 

Let this then be enacted for the observance of our guardians ; 
that they are neither to devastate the ground nor to burn houses. 

Yes, let that be enacted ; and we may safely maintain that 
this and all our previous enactments are excellent. 

But still, Socrates, I must say, that if you are allowed to go 
on in this way you will entirely forget the other question which 
in entering on this discussion you put aside, namely : the in- 
quiry as to whether such an order of things is possible, and if 
possible, in what way possible? For, admitting the possibil- 
ity, I am quite ready to acknowledge that the plan has every 
sort of advantage. I will add what you have omitted, that 
they will be the bravest of warriors, ever exhorting one 
another by the names of fathers, brothers, and sons, and there- 
fore never leaving their ranks ; and if you suppose the women 
to join their armies, whether in the same rank or in the rear, 
either as a terror to the enemy, or as auxiliaries in case of need, 
I know that this will make them altogether invincible ; and 
there are many domestic advantages which might be mentioned 
as well, and these also I fully acknowledge. But, as I admit 
all these advantages and as many more as you please, if this 
State of yours were to come into being, say no more of that ; 
and let us now come to the question of possibility and ways 
and means — all the rest may be left. 

If I loiter for a moment, you instantly make a raid upon 

me, I said, and have no mercy ; I have hardly escaped the 

first and second waves, and you don't seem to be aware 

that you are now bringing upon me the third, which is 

the greatest. 7 When you have seen this, and heard the roar, 

7 In Republic V. Socrates puts forth three propositions which he humor- 
ously calls waves, as though the company were likely to be overwhelmed by 
them. These propositions are : i. The sexes should have all occupations 
in common and therefore the same education. 2. Wives and children 
should be in common. 3. The State should be ruled by philosophers. 



THE REPUBLIC 287 

I think you will acknowledge that some fear and hesitation 
was natural, considering the marvelous nature of the proposal 
which I have to offer for consideration. 

The more appeals of this sort which you make, he said, the 
more determined are we that you should tell us how such a 
State is possible : speak out, and at once. 

Let me begin by reminding you that we found our way 
hither in the search after justice and injustice. 

True, he replied ; but what makes you say this ? 

I was only going to ask whether, if we have discovered them, 
we are to require that the just man should in nothing fail of 
absolute justice ; or may we be satisfied with an approximation, 
and the attainment of a higher degree of justice than is to be 
found in other men? 

The approximation will be enough. 

Then the nature of justice and the perfectly just man, and 
of injustice and the perfectly unjust, was only an ideal ? We 
were to look at them in order that we might judge of our own 
happiness and unhappiness according to the standard which 
they exhibited and the degree in which we resembled them, 
not with any view of demonstrating the possibility of their ex- 
istence ? 

That is true, he said. 

How would a painter be the worse painter because, after hav- 
ing minutely painted an ideal of a perfectly beautiful man, he 
was unable to show that any such man could ever have existed ? 

He would not. 

Well, and were we not creating an ideal of a perfect State? 

To be sure. 

And is our theory a worse theory because we are unable to 
prove the possibility of a city being ordered in the manner 
described ? 

Surely not, he replied. 

That must be acknowledged, I said. But if, at your request, 
I am to try and show how and under what condition the pos- 
sibility is highest, I must ask you, having this in view, to re- 
peat your former admissions. 

What admissions ? 

I want to know whether words do not surpass realities; 
and whether the actual, whatever a man may think, does not 
fall short of the truth ? What do you say ? 



288 PLATO THE TEACHER 

I admit that. 

Then you must not insist on my proving that the actual 
State will in every respect agree with the description of the 
ideal : if we are only able to discover how a city may be gov- 
erned nearly in the way that we propose, you will admit that 
we have discovered the possibility which you demand ; and 
that will content you. I am sure that I should be contented 
with that — will not you? 

Yes, I will. 

Then let me next endeavor to show what is that fault in 
States which is the cause of their present maladministration, 
and what is the least change which will enable a State to pass 
into the truer form ; and let the change, if possible, be of one 
thing only, or, if not, of two ; at any rate, let the changes be 
as few and slight as possible. 

Certainly, he replied. 

I think then, I said, that there might be a revolution if 
there were just one change, which is not a slight or easy though 
still a possible one. 

What is that ? he said. 

Now then, I said, I go to meet that which I liken to the 
greatest of waves, yet shall the word be spoken, even though 
the running over of the laughter of the wave shall just sink me 
beneath the waters of laughter and dishonor ; and do you at- 
tend to me. 

Proceed, he said. 

I said : Until, then, philosophers are kings, or the kings 
and princes of this world have the spirit and power of philoso- 
phy, and political greatness and wisdom meet in one, and those 
commoner natures who follow either to the exclusion of the 
other are compelled to stand aside, cities will never cease from 
ill — no, nor the human race, as I believe — and then only will 
this our State have a possibility of life and behold the light of 
I day : this was what I wanted but was afraid to say, my dear 
Glaucon ; for to see that there is no other way either of pri- 
vate or public happiness is indeed a hard thing. 

Socrates, he said, what a speech is this ? I would have you 
consider that the word which you have uttered is one at which 
numerous persons, and very respectable persons too, will in a 
moment pull off their coats, as I may in a figure say, and in 
light array, taking up any weapon that comes to hand, they 



THE REPUBLIC 289 

will run at you might and main, intending to do heaven 
knows what ; and if you don't prepare an answer, and put your- 
self in motion, you will be " pared by their fine wits," 
and no mistake. 474" 

You got me into the scrape, I said. 

And I was quite right, he said ; however, I will do all I can 
to get you out ; but I can only give you wishes and exhorta- 
tions, and also, perhaps, I may be able to fit answers into your 
questions better than another — that is all. And now having 
such an auxiliary, you must do your best to show the unbeliev- 
ers that you are right. 

I ought to try, I said, as I have an offer of such valuable as- 
sistance. And I think that, if there is to be a chance of our 
escaping, we must define who these philosophers are who, as 
we say, are to rule in the State ; then we shall be able to de- 
fend ourselves : there will be discovered to be some natures 
who ought to rule and to study philosophy ; and others who are 
not born to be philosophers, and are meant to be followers 
rather than leaders. 

Then now for a definition, he said. 

Follow me, I said, and I hope that I may somehow or other 
be able to give you a satisfactory explanation. 

Proceed, he replied. 

[The true philosopher is one who loves all wisdom. He 
alone distinguishes between the changing world of the senses 
and the eternal world of absolute <ruth. In contrast with 
him, the many have no true knowledge but only the appearance 
of knowledge which may be called opinion.] 

Those who see the many beautiful, and who yet neither see, 
nor can be taught to see, absolute beauty ; who see the many 
just, and not absolute justice, and the like, — such persons may 
be said to have opinion but not knowledge ? 

That is certain. 

But those who see the absolute and eternal and immutable 
may be said to know, and not to have opinion only ? 

Neither can that be denied. s 

The one love and embrace the subjects of knowledge, 
the other those of opinion? The latter are the same, as I 
dare say you will remember, who listened to sweet sounds and 



290 PLATO THE TEACHER 

gazed upon fair colors, but would not tolerate the existence 
of absolute beauty ? 

Yes, I remember. 

Shall we then be guilty of any impropriety in calling them 
lovers of opinion rather than lovers of wisdom, and will they 
be very angry with us for thus describing them? 

I shall tell them that they ought not to be angry at a descrip- 
tion of themselves which is true. 

But those who embrace the absolute are to be called lovers 
of wisdom and not lovers of opinion ? 

Assuredly. 



THE REPUBLIC 2CjI 



BOOK VI 

And thus, Glaucon, after the argument has gone a weary 
way, the true and the false philosophers have at length ._ 
appeared in view. 

I do not think, he said, that the way could have been 
shortened. 

I suppose not, I said ; and yet I believe that the contrast 
might be made still more striking if there were not many 
other questions awaiting us, which he who desires to see in 
what the life of the just differs from that of the unjust must 
consider. 

And what question is next in order? he asked. 

Surely, I said, there can be no doubt about that. Inas- 
much as philosophers only are able to grasp the eternal and 
unchangeable, and those who wander in the region of the 
many and variable are not philosophers, I must ask you which 
of the two kinds should be the rulers of our State ? 

And what would be a fair answer to that question ? he said. 

Ask yourself, I replied, which of the two are better able to 
guard the laws and institutions of our State ; and let them be 
our guardians. 

Very good, he said. 

Neither, I said, can there be any question that the guardian 
who is to keep anything should have eyes rather than no eyes? 

There can be no question of that. 

And are not those who are deprived of the knowledge of the 
true being of each thing, and have in their souls no clear pat- 
tern, 1 and are unable as with a painter's eye to look at the very 
truth and to that original to repair, and having perfect vision 
of the other world to order the laws about beauty, goodness, 
justice in this, and to guard and preserve the order of them — 
are they not, I say, simply blind ? 

Indeed, he replied, they are much in that condition. 

And shall these be our guardians when there are others who, 
besides being their equals in experience and not inferior to 
them in any particular of virtue, have also the knowledge of 
the true being of everything ? 

x See Book IX., 592. 



292 PLATO THE TEACHER 

There can be no reason, he said, for rejecting those who 
8 have this great and preeminent quality, if they do not 
fail in any other respect. 

Suppose then, I said, that we determine how far they can 
unite this and the other excellences. 

By all means. 

First of all, as we began by observing, their nature will 
have to be ascertained ; and if we are agreed about that, then, 
if I am not mistaken, we shall also be agreed that such an 
union of qualities is possible, and that those in whom they are 
united, and those only, should be rulers in the State. Let us 
begin by assuming that philosophical minds always love that 
sort of knowledge which shows them the eternal nature in 
which is no variableness from generation and corruption. 

Let that be acknowledged. 

And further, I said, let us admit that they are lovers of all 
being; there is no part whether greater or less, or more or 
less honorable, which they are willing to renounce; that has 
been already illustrated by the example of the lover and the 
man of ambition. 2 

True. 

There is another quality which they will also need if they 
are to be what we were saying. 

What quality is that ? 

Truthfulness : they will never intentionally receive false- 
hood, which is their detestation, and they will love the truth. 

Yes, he said, that may be affirmed. 

" May be," my friend, I replied, that is not the word ; say 
rather, "must be affirmed : " for he whose nature is amorous 
of anything cannot help loving all that belongs or is akin to 
the object of his affections. 

Right, he said. 

And is there anything more akin to wisdom than truth ? 

Impossible, he said. 

Or can the same nature be a lover of wisdom and a lover 
of falsehood ? 

Never. 

The true lover of learning then must from his earliest youth, 
as far as in him lies, desire all truth ? 

Assuredly. 
2 This refers to a passage in Book V. , 474, which has been omitted. 



THE REPUBLIC 293 

But then again, he whose desires are strong in one direction 
will have them weaker in others : they will be like a stream 
which has been drawn off into another channel. 

True. 

He whose desires are drawn toward knowledge in every form 
will be absorbed in the pleasures of the soul, and will hardly 
feel bodily pleasure — I mean, if he be a true philosopher and 
not a sham one. 

That is most certain. 

Such an one is sure to be temperate and the reverse of cov- 
etous ; for the motives which make another man covetous and 
also profuse in expenditure, are no part of his character. 
There is another criterion of the philosophical nature «, 
which has also to be considered. 4 

What is that ? 

There should be no secret corner of meanness ; for mean- 
ness is entirely opposed to a soul that is always longing after 
the whole of things both divine and human. 

Most true, he replied. 

Can the soul then, which has magnificence of conception 
and is the spectator of all time and all existence, think much 
of human life? 

Impossible, he replied. 

Or can such an one account death fearful ? 

No indeed. 

Then the cowardly and mean nature has no part in true 
philosophy ? 

I should say not. 

Or again : can he who is harmoniously constituted, who is 
not covetous or mean, or a boaster, or a coward — can he, I 
say, ever be unjust or hard in his dealings? 

Impossible. 

You will note also whether a man is righteous and gentle, or 
rude and unsociable ; these are the signs which distinguish even 
in youth the philosophical nature from the unphilosophical. 

True. 

And there is another point which should be remarked. 

What is that ? 

Whether he has or has not a pleasure in learning ; for no 
one will love that which gives him pain, and in which after 
much toil he makes little progress. 



294 PLATO THE TEACHER 

Certainly not. 

And again, if he is forgetful and retains nothing of what he 
learns, will he not be an empty vessel ? 

That is certain. 

Laboring in vain, he must end in hating himself and his 
fruitless occupation? 

Yes. 

Then the forgetful soul cannot be ranked among philoso- 
phers ; a philosopher ought to have a good memory ? 

Certainly. 

But the inharmonious and unseemly nature can only tend to 
disproportion ? 

No doubt of that. 

And do you consider truth to be akin to proportion or dis- 
proportion ? 

To proportion. 

Then, besides other qualities, let us seek for a well-propor- 
tioned and gracious mind whose own nature will of herself be 
drawn to the true being of everything. 

Certainly. 

Well, and do not all these qualities go together, and are 
they not necessary to a soul, which is to have a full and perfect 
participation of being ? 
„ They are absolutely necessary, he replied. 

And must not that be a blameless study which he only 
can pursue who has a good memory, and is quick to learn, 
noble, gracious, the friend of truth, justice, courage, temper- 
ance, who are his kindred ? 3 

The god of jealousy himself, he said, could find no fault 
with such a study. 

And to these, I said, when perfected by years and educa- 
tion, and to these only you will entrust the State. 

Here Adeimantus interposed and said : To this, Socrates, 
no one can offer a reply ; but there is a feeling which those 
who hear you talk as you are now doing often experience, and 
which I may describe in this way : they fancy that they are 
led astray a little at each step in the argument, owing to their 
own want of skill in asking and answering questions ; these 
littles accumulate, and at the end of the discussion they are 
found to have sustained a dire reverse and to be at the antip- 

sSee Book II., 376 ; III., 412-414. 



THE REPUBLIC 295 

odes of their former selves. And as unskillful players of 
draughts are at last shut up by their skilled adversaries and 
have no piece to move, so they find themselves at last shut up 
and have no word to say in this new game of which words are 
the counters ; and yet all the time they are in the right. This 
observation is suggested to me by what is now occurring. For 
at this instant any one will say, that although in words he is 
not able to meet you at each step in the argument, as a fact 
he sees that the votaries of philosophy who carry on the study, 
not only in youth with a view to education, but as the pursuit 
of their maturer years, — that these men, I say, for the most 
part grow into very strange beings, not to say utter rogues, 
and that the result with those who may be considered the best 
of them is, that they are made useless to the world by the 
very study which you extol. 

Well, I said ; and do you think that they are wrong ? 

I cannot tell, he replied ; but I should like to know what is 
your opinion. 

Let me tell you then that I think they are quite right. 

Then how can you be justified in saying that cities will not 
cease from evil until philosophers rule in them, when philoso- 
phers are acknowledged by us to be of no use to them ? 

You ask a question, I said, which I can only answer in a 
parable. 

Yes, said he ; and that is a way of speaking to which you 
are not accustomed, I suppose. 

I perceive, I said, that you are vastly amused at having got 
me to speak on such an impossible theme ; and now you shall 
hear the parable in order that you may judge better of ~~ 
the meagreness of my imagination : for the treatment 
which the best men experience from their States is so grievous 
that no single thing on earth can be compared with them ; 
and therefore in defending them I must have recourse to fic- 
tion, and make a compound of many things, like the fabulous 
unions of goats and stags which are found in pictures. Imag- 
ine then a fleet or a ship in which there is a captain who is 
taller and stronger than any of the crew, but he is a little deaf 
and has a similar infirmity in sight, and his knowledge of nav- 
igation is not much better. Now the sailors are quarrelling 
with one another about the steering ; every one is of opinion 
that he ought to steer, though he has never learned and cannot 



296 PLATO THE TEACHER 

tell who taught him or when he learned, and will even assert 
that the art of navigation cannot be taught, and is ready to 
cut in pieces him who says the contrary. They throng about 
the captain, and do all that they can to make him commit the 
helm to them ; and then, if they fail on some occasion and 
others prevail, they kill the others or throw them overboard, 
and having first chained up the noble captain's senses with 
drink or some narcotic drug, they mutiny and take possession 
of the ship and make themselves at home with the stores ; and 
thus, eating and drinking, they continue their voyage with 
such success as might be expected of them. Him who is their 
partisan and zealous in the design of getting the ship out of 
the captain's hands into their own, whether by force or per- 
suasion, they compliment with the name of sailor, pilot, able 
seaman, and abuse the other sort of man and call him a good- 
for-nothing ; but they have not even a notion that the true 
pilot must pay attention to the year and seasons and sky and 
stars and winds, and whatever else belongs to his art, if he in- 
tends to be really qualified for the command of a ship; at the 
same time that he must and will be the steerer, whether people 
like him to steer or not ; and they think that the combination 
of this with the art of navigation is impossible. Now in ves- 
8 sels and among sailors, whose condition is such as this, 
how will the true pilot be regarded ? Will he not be 
called by the mutineers useless, prater, star-gazer ? 

Of course, said Adeimantus. 

I do not suppose, I said, that you would care to hear the 
interpretation of the figure, which is an allegory of the true 
philosopher in his relation to the State 4 ; for you understand 
already. 

Certainly. 

Then suppose you now take the parable to the gentleman 
who is surprised at finding that philosophers have no honor in 
their cities, and explain to him and try to convince him that 
their having honor would be far more extraordinary. 

I will. 

Say to him, that, in deeming the best of the votaries of phi- 
losophy to be useless to the rest of the world, he is right ; but 

4 The captain personifies the people as Uncle Sam stands for the Amer- 
ican people. The sailors represent the politicians ; the true pilot represents 
the philosopher. 



THE REPUBLIC 297 

he ought to attribute their uselessness to the fault of those who 
will not use them, and not to themselves. The pilot should 
not humbly beg the sailors to be commanded by him — that is 
not the order of nature ; neither are the wise to go to the doors 
of the rich (the ingenious author of this told a lie), for the 
truth is, that, when a man is ill, whether he be rich or poor, 
he must go to the physician's door — the physician will not 
come to him, and he who is asking to be governed, to the 
door of him who is able to govern. No ruler who is good for 
anything ought to ask his subjects to obey him ; he is not like 
the present governors of mankind who may be compared to 
the mutinous sailors, and the true helmsman to those whom 
they call useless and star-gazers. 

Precisely, he said. 

For these reasons, and among men like these, the noblest 
pursuit of all is not likely to be much esteemed by those who 
are of the opposite persuasion ; not that the greatest and most 
lasting injury is done to philosophy by them, but by her own 
professing followers, the same of whom you suppose the ac- 
cuser to say, that the greater number of them are arrant 
rogues^ and the best are useless; in which opinion I agreed. 

Yes. 

And the reason why the good are useless has been now ex- 
plained ? 

True. 

Then shall we now endeavor to show that the corruption 
of the greater number is also unavoidable, and that this is not 
to be laid to the charge of philosophy any more than the 
other ? 

By all means. 

And let us ask and answer in turn, first going back to the 
description of the gentle and noble nature. Truth, as you 
will remember, was his captain, whom he followed al- 
ways and in all things ; failing in this, he was an impos- 
tor, and had no part or lot in true philosophy. 

Yes, that was said. 

Well, and is not this quality alone greatly at variance with 
our present notions of him ? 

Certainly, he said. 

And have we not a right to say, in his defense, that the true 
lover of knowledge is always striving after being — that is his 



298 TLATO THE TEACHER 

nature ; he will not rest in the fanciful multiplicity of indi- 
viduals, but will go on — the keen edge will not be blunted, 
neither the force of his desire abate until he have attained the 
knowledge of the true nature of every essence by a kindred 
power in the soul, and by that power drawing near and min- 
gling incorporate with very being, having begotten mind and 
truth, he will know and live and grow truly, and then, and 
not till then, will he cease from his travail. 

Nothing, he said, can be more just than such a description 
of him. 

And will the love of a lie be any part of a philosopher's 
nature ? Will he not utterly hate a lie ? 

That he will. 

And when truth is the captain, we cannot suspect any evil 
of the band which he leads ? 

Impossible. 

Justice and health will be of the company, and temperance 
will follow after. 

True, he replied. 

Neither is there any reason why I should again set in array 
the philosopher's virtues, as you will doubtless remember that 
courage, magnanimity, apprehension, memory, were his nat- 
ural gifts. And you objected that, although no one could 
deny what I then said, still, if you leave words and look at 
facts, the persons who are thus described are some of them 
useless, and the greater number wholly depraved ; and this 
led us to inquire into the grounds of these accusations, and 
we had arrived at the point of asking why are the many bad, 
which question of necessity brought us back to the examina- 
tion and definition of the true philosopher. 

Exactly. 

And now we have to consider the corruptions of this nature, 
why so many are spoiled and so few escape spoiling — those, I 
mean, whom you call useless but not wicked ; and after that 
we will consider the imitators who turn into philoso- 
phers, what manner of natures are they who aspire after 
a profession which is above them and of which they are un- 
worthy, and then, by their manifold inconsistencies, bring 
upon philosophy, and upon all philosophers, that universal 
reprobation of which we speak. 

But what, he said, is the nature of these corruptions ? 



THE REPUBLIC 299 

That I will try to explain to you, I said, if I can. Every 
one will admit that a nature thus gifted, and having all the 
supposed conditions of the philosophic nature perfect, is a 
plant that rarely grows among men — there are not many of 
them. 

They are very rare. 

And what numberless causes may tend utterly to destroy 
these rare natures ! 

What causes ? 

In the first place there are their own virtues, their courage, 
temperance, and the rest of them, every one of which praise- 
worthy qualities (and this is a most singular circumstance) de- 
stroys and distracts from philosophy the soul which is the 
possessor of them. 5 

That is very singular, he replied. 

Then there are all the ordinary goods of life — beauty, 
wealth, strength, rank, and great connections in the State — on 
which I need not enlarge, having given you a general outline 
of them ; these also have the effect of corrupting and distract- 
ing them. 

I know the goods which you mean, and I should like to 
know what you mean about them. 

Grasp the truth, then, as a whole, I said, and in the right 
way, and you will have no difficulty in understanding the pre- 
ceding remarks, and they will not appear strange to you. 

And how am I to do that ? he asked. 

Why, I said, we know that when any seed or plant, whether 
vegetable or animal, fails to meet with proper nutriment or 
climate or soil, the greater the vigor, the greater the need also 
of suitable conditions, because, as I imagine, evil is a greater 
enemy to good than to the not-good. 

Very true. 

There is reason in supposing that the finest natures, when 
under alien conditions, receive more injury than the inferior, 
because the contrast is greater. 

That is true. 

And may we not say, Adeimantus, that the most gifted 
minds, when they are ill-educated, become the worst ? Do 
not great crimes and the spirit of pure evil spring out of a 
fullness of nature ruined by education rather than from any 

5 Compare 495. 



300 PLATO THE TEACHER 

inferiority, whereas weak natures are scarcely capable of any 
very great good or very great evil ? 

There I think that you are right. 

And our philosopher follows the same analogy — he is like a 
plant which, having proper nurture, grows and matures into 
all virtue, but, if sowed and planted in an alien soil, 
becomes the most noxious of all weeds, unless saved by 
some divine help. Do you really think, as people are fond of 
saying, that our youth are corrupted by the Sophists, or that 
individual Sophisters corrupt them in any degree worth speak- 
ing of? Are not the public who say these things the greatest 
of all Sophists? And do they not educate to perfection alike 
young and old, men and women, and fashion them after their 
own hearts? 

When is this accomplished ? he said. 

When they meet together, and the world sits down at an 
assembly, or in a court of law, or a theatre, or a camp, or at 
some other place of resort, and there is a great uproar, and 
they praise some things which are being said or done, and 
blame other things, equally exaggerating in both, shouting 
and clapping their hands, and the echo of the rocks and the 
place in which they are assembled redoubles the sound of the 
praise or blame — at such a time will not a young man's heart 
leap within him ? Will the influences of education stem the 
tide of praise or blame, and not rather be carried away in the 
stream ? And will he not have the notions of good and evil 
which the public in general have — he will do as they do ; and 
as they are, such will he be? 

Yes, Socrates ; necessity will compel him. 

And yet, I said, there is a still greater necessity, which has 
not been mentioned. 

What is that ? 

The " gentler force " of attainder or exile or death, which, 
as you are aware, these new Sophists and educators, who are 
the public, apply when their words are powerless. 

Indeed they do, and no mistake. 

Now what opinion of any other Sophist, or of any private 
man, can be expected to overcome in such an unequal contest? 

None, he replied. 

No, indeed, I said, even to make the attempt is a piece of 
folly ; for there neither is, has been, nor ever can be, as I 






THE REPUBLIC 301 

think, another type of character, trained to virtue indepen- 
dently of them — I speak, my friend, of man only ; what is 
more than man, as the proverb says, is not included : for I 
would not have you ignorant that, in the present evil 
state of governments, whatever is saved and comes to 
good is saved by the power of God,' as you may truly say. 

To that I quite assent, he replied. 

Then let me beg your assent also to a further observation. 

What is that ? 

Why, that all those mercenary adventurers, whom the world 
calls Sophists and rivals, do but teach the collective opinion of 
the many, which are the opinions of their assemblies ; and this 
is their wisdom. I might compare them to a man who should 
study the tempers and desires of a mighty strong beast who is 
fed by him — he would learn how to approach and handle him, 
also at what times and from what causes he is dangerous or the 
reverse, and what is the meaning of his several cries, and by 
what sounds, when another utters them, he is soothed or in- 
furiated ; and you may suppose further that when, by con- 
stantly living with him, he has become perfect in all this which 
he calls wisdom, he makes a system or art, which he proceeds 
to teach, not that he has any real notion of what he is teach- 
ing, but he names this honorable and that dishonorable, or 
good or evil, or just or unjust, all in accordance with the 
tastes and tempers of the great brute, when he has learnt the 
meaning of his inarticulate grunts. Good he pronounces to 
be what pleases him, and evil what he dislikes ; and he can 
give no other account of them except that the just and noble 
are the necessary, having never himself seen, and having no 
power of explaining to others, the nature of either, or the im- 
mense difference between them. Would not he be a rare edu- 
cator ? 

Indeed, I think that he would. 

And in what respect does he differ from him who thinks 
that wisdom is the discernment of the tastes and pleasures of 
the assembled multitude, whether in painting or music, or, fi- 
nally, in politics? For I suppose you will agree that he who 
associates with the many, and exhibits to them his poem or 
other work of art or political service, making them his judges, 
except under potest, will also experience the fatal necessity of 
producing whatever they praise. And yet the reasons aie ut- 



302 PLATO THE TEACHER 

terly ludicrous which they give in confirmation of their notions 
about the honorable and good. Did you ever hear any of them 
which were not ? 

No, nor am I likely to hear. 

You recognize the truth of what has been said ? Then let 

me ask you to consider further whether the world will ever be 

induced to believe in the existence of absolute beauty 

rather than of the many beautiful, or of the absolute in 

each kind rather than of the many in each kind ? 

Certainly not. 

Then the world cannot possibly be a philosopher ? 

Impossible. 

And therefore philosophers must inevitably fall under the 
censure of the world ? 

They must. 

And of individuals who consort with the mob and seek to 
please them ? 

That is evident. 

Then, do you see any way in which the philosopher can be 
preserved in his calling to the end ? and remember what we 
were saying of him, that he was to have knowledge and mem- 
ory and courage and magnanimity — these were admitted by 
us to be the true philosopher's gifts. 

Yes. 

Now, will not such an one be, from the first, in all things 
first among all, especially if his bodily endowments are like his 
mental ones ? 

Certainly, he said. 

And his friends and fellow-citizens will want to use them as 
he gets older for their own purposes ? 

No question. 

Falling at his feet, they will make requests to him and do 
him honor and flatter him, because they want to get into their 
hands the power which he will one day possess. 

That is often the way, he said. 

And what will he do under such circumstances, especially if 
he be a citizen of a great city, rich and noble, and a tall proper 
youth ? 6 Will he not be full of boundless aspirations, and 
fancy himself able to manage the affairs of Hellenes and of bar- 

8 Bosanquet thinks this passage refers to Alcibiades. See Protagoras, 
note i. 



THE REPUBLIC 3O3 

barians, and in the thought of this he will dilate and elevate 
himself in the fullness of vain pomp and senseless pride? 

Very true, he said- 

Now, when he is in this state of mind, if some one gently 
comes to him and tells him that he is without sense, which he 
must have, and that the missing sense is not to be had without 
serving an apprenticeship, do you think that, under such ad- 
verse circumstances, he will be easily induced to listen to 
him? 

That would be very unlikely. 

But suppose further that there is one person who has feeling, 
and who, either from some excellence of disposition or natural 
affinity, is inclined or drawn towards philosophy, and his 
friends think that they are likely to lose the advantages which 
they were going to reap from his friendship, what will be the 
effect upon them ? Will they not do and say anything to pre- 
vent his learning and to render the teacher powerless, using to 
this end private intrigues as well as public prosecutions? 

There can be no doubt of that. 

And how can one who is thus circumstanced ever 
become a philosopher ? 

Impossible. 

Then, were we not right in saying that even the very qualities 
which make a man a philosopher may, if he be ill-educated, 
serve to divert him from philosophy, no less than riches and 
their accompaniments and the other so-called goods of life? 7 

That was quite true. 

Thus, my excellent friend, is brought about the ruin and 
failure of the natures best adapted to the best of all pursuits, 
who, as we assert, are rare at any time ; and this is the class 
out of whom come those who are the authors of the greatest 
evil to States and individuals; and also of the greatest good 
when the tide carries them in the direction of good ; but a 
small man never was the doer of any great thing either to 
individuals or States. 

That is most true, he said. 

They fall away, and philosophy is left desolate, with her 
marriage rite incomplete : 8 for her own have forsaken her, and 

7 Compare 491. 

8 Here, as so often, Plato represents the relation between the good soul 
and the truth by the figure of love and marriage. 



304 PLATO THE TEACHER 

while they are leading a false and unbecoming life, she, like an 
orphan bereft of her kindred, is dishonored by other unworthy 
persons, who enter in and fasten upon her the reproaches which 
her reprovers utter ; by whom, as you say, her votaries are 
affirmed, some of them to be good for nothing, and the greater 
number deserving of everything that is bad. 

That is certainly what is said. 

Yes; and what else would you expect, I said, when you 
think of the puny creatures who, seeing this land open to them 
— a land well stocked with fair names and showy titles — like 
prisoners who run away out of prison into a sanctuary, take a 
leap out of the arts into philosophy ; those who do so being 
probably the cleverest hands at their own miserable crafts ? for, 
although philosophy be in this evil case, still there remains a 
dignity about her which is not found in the other arts. And 
many are thus attracted by her whose natures are imperfect and 
whose souls are marred and enervated by their meannesses, as 
their bodies also are disfigured by their arts and crafts. Is not 
that true? 

Yes. 

Are they not exactly like a bald little tinker who has just 
got out of durance and come into a fortune ; he washes the 
dirt off him and has a new coat, and is decked out as a bride- 
groom going to marry his master's daughter, who is left poor 
and desolate ? 

, The figure is exact. 

And what will be the issue of such marriages ? Will 
they not be vile and bastard ? 

There can be no question of that. 

And when persons who are unworthy of education approach 
philosophy and make an alliance with her who is in a rank above 
them, what sort of ideas and opinions are likely to be generated ? 
Will they not be sophisms captivating to the ear, yet having 
nothing in them genuine or worthy of or akin to true wisdom ? 

No doubt, he said. 

Then there is a very small remnant, Adeimantus, I said, of 
worthy disciples of philosophy : perchance some noble nature, 
brought up under good influences, and in the absence of temp- 
tation, who is detained by exile in her service, which he refuses 
to quit ; or some lofty soul born in a mean city, the politics of 
which he contemns or neglects ; and perhaps there may be a 



THE REPUBLIC 305 

few who, having a gift for philosophy, leave other arts, which 
they justly despise 9 and come to her ; and peradventure there 
are some who are restrained by our friend Theages' bridle (for 
Theages, 10 you know, had everything to divert him from philoso- 
phy ; but his ill-health kept him from politics). My own case 
of the internal sign n is indeed hardly worth mentioning, as 
very rarely, if ever, has such a monitor been vouchsafed to any 
one else. Those who belong to this small class have tasted how 
sweet and blessed a possession philosophy is, and have also seen 
and been satisfied of the madness of the multitude, and known 
that there is no one who ever acts honestly in the administra- 
tion of States, nor any helper who will save any one who main- 
tains the cause of the just. Such a saviour would be like a 
man who has fallen among wild beasts — unable to join in the 
wickedness of his fellows, neither would he be able alone to re- 
sist all their fierce natures, and therefore he would be of no use 
to the State or to his friends, and would have to throw away his 
life before he had done any good to himself or others. 12 And 
he reflects upon all this, and holds his peace, and does his own 
business. He is like one who retires under the shelter of a 
wall in the storm of dust and sleet which the driving wind 
hurries along ; and when he sees the rest of mankind full of 
wickedness, he is content if only he can live his own life and 
be pure from evil or unrighteousness, and depart in peace and 
good will, with bright hopes. 

And he who does this, he said, will have done a great work 
before he departs. 

Yes, I said, a great Avork, but not the greatest, unless he find 
a State suitable to him : for in a State which is suitable to 
him he will have a larger growth, and be the saviour of ' 
his country as well as of himself. 

Enough, then, of the causes why philosophy is in such an 
evil name ; how unjustly, has been explained : and now is 
there anything more which you wish to say ? 

• See Book IX., 590.- 

10 Mentioned in Apology, 33. 

11 See Apology, 31 and 40. 

12 Plato had personal experiences upon which to base this passage. His 
master Socrates had been martyred (see Apology, 31 , where Socrates tells why 
he took no part in public affairs). Plato himself had been sold as a slave 
by the tyrant of Syracuse. His painful experiences in endeavoring to re- 
form the government of Syracuse probably occurred after the writing of the 
Republic. 

20 



306 PLATO THE TEACHER 

Nothing more of that, he replied ; but I should like to know 
which of the existing governments you deem suitable to phi- 
losophy. 

Not any of them, I said ; and that is the very accusation 
which I bring against them : not one of them is worthy of the 
philosophic nature : and hence that nature is warped and 
alienated from them ; as the exotic seed which is sown in a 
foreign land becomes denaturalized, and assimilates to the 
character of the soil, which gets the better, even so this growth 
of philosophy, instead of persisting, receives another character. 
But if philosophy ever finds that perfection in the State which 
she herself is, then will be seen that she is in truth divine, and 
that all other things, whether natures of men or institutions, 
are but human ; and now, I know, that you are going to ask 
what that State is. 

No, he said ; there you are wrong, for I was going to ask 
another question — whether this is the State of which we are 
the founders and inventors, or another ? 

Yes, I replied, ours in most respects ; but you may remem- 
ber our saying before that some living authority would always 
be required in the State, whose idea of the constitution would 
be the same which guided you originally when laying down 
the laws. 

That was said, he replied. 

Yes, but imperfectly said ; you frightened us with objec- 
tions, which certainly showed that the discussion would be 
long and difficult; and even what remains is the reverse of 
easy. 

What is that ? 

The question how the study of philosophy may be so ordered 
as to be consistent with the preservation of the State ; for all 
great things are attended with risk; as the saying is, " Hard 
is the good." 

Still, he said, let us clear that point up, and the inquiry will 
then be complete. 

I shall not be hindered, I said, by any want of will, but, 
if at all, by a want of power : of my zeal you shall have ocular 
demonstration ; and please to remark how bold I am just now 
in venturing to assert that a State ought not to have philosophy 
studied after the present fashion. 

How do you mean ? 



THE REPUBLIC 307 

At present, I said, even those who study philosophy in early 
youth, and in the intervals of money-making and housekeep- 
ing, do but make an approach to the most difficult branch 
of the study, and then take themselves off (I am speak- 
ing of those who have the most training, and by the most 
difficult branch I mean dialectic) ; and in after life they per- 
haps go to a discussion which is held by others, and to which 
they are invited, and this they deem a great matter, as the 
study of philosophy is not regarded by them as their proper 
business : then, as years advance, in most cases their light is 
quenched more truly than Heracleitus' sun, for they never rise 
again. 13 

But what ought to be their course ? 

Just the opposite. In childhood and youth their study, and 
what philosophy they learn, should be suited to their tender 
age : let them take care of their bodies during the period of 
growth, and thus philosophy will have her instruments ready; 
as the man advances to mature intelligence, increasing the 
gymnastics of the soul ; but when their strength fails, and is 
past civil and military duties, then let them range at will and 
have no other serious employment, as we intend them to live 
happily here, and, this life ended, to have a similar happy 
destiny in another. 

How truly in earnest you are, Socrates ! he said ; I am sure 
of that ; and yet I believe that most of your hearers are likely 
to be still more in earnest in their opposition to you, and will 
never be converted ; Thrasymachus least of all. 

Don't raise a quarrel, I said, between Thrasymachus and 
me, who have just become friends, although, indeed, we were 
never enemies ; for I shall go on using every effort until I 
either convert him and other men, or do something which 
avails against the day when they live again, and hold the like 
discourse in another existence. 

That will be a long time hence. 

Say rather, I replied, a time which is not to be reckoned 
in comparison with eternity. That the world will not believe 
my words is quite natural ; for they never saw that of which 
we are now speaking realized ; what they saw was a conven- 

13 HeracleituS'.'(her'a-kli'tus): a great philosopher, living in Ephesus in Asia 
Minor about 500 B.C. Heracleitus said the sun was extinguished every 
evening and new every morning. 



308 PLATO THE TEACHER 

tional imitation of philosophy, which consisted of words ar- 
tificially brought together, not like these agreeing of their 
own accord ; but a human being who in word and work is 
perfectly moulded, as far as he can be, into the proportion and 
likeness of virtue, such an one ruling in a city which 
bears the same image they have never yet seen, in the 
case of one any more than of many — do you think they ever 
did? 

No, indeed. 

No, my friend, nor have they often heard the words of 
beauty and freedom ; such words as those which men use 
when they are earnestly and in every way seeking after truth, 
for the sake of knowledge, while they look coldly on the 
subtleties of controversy, the end of which is opinion and 
strife, whether they meet with them in the courts of law or in 
society. 

They are strangers, he said, to the words of which you 
speak. 

And this was what we foresaw, and this was the reason why 
truth forced us to admit that there is no chance of perfection, 
either in cities or governments or individuals, until a neces- 
sity was laid upon the second small class of philosophers (not 
the rogues, but those whom we termed useless), of taking care 
of the State and obeying the call of the State; or until kings 
themselves, or the sons of kings or potentates, were inspired 
with a true love of philosophy. Now I maintain that there is 
no reason in saying that either of these alternatives, or both of 
them, is impossible; if they were, we might indeed be justly 
ridiculed as dreamers and visionaries. Am I not right? 

Quite right. 

If then, in the countless ages of the past, or at the present 
hour in some foreign clime which is far away and beyond our 
ken, the perfected philosopher is or has been or shall be here- 
after compelled by a superior power to have the charge of the 
State, we are ready to assert to the death, that this our con- 
stitution has been, is, yea, and will be at any time, when the 
Muse of Philosophy is queen. Neither is there any impossi- 
bility in this ; the difficulty is not denied by us. 
. I agree with you, he said. 

But you will say that mankind in general are not agreed? 

That is what I should say, he replied. 



THE REPUBLIC 309 

my friend, I said, do not have such a bad opinion of 
mankind : they will surely be of another mind, if gently and 
with the view of soothing them and removing the evil name of 
too much learning, you show them the philosopher as just now 
described, according to his true character and profes- 
sion, and then they will see that you are not speaking of 
those whom they supposed ; if they view him in this light, 
they will surely change their mind, and answer in another 
strain. Who can be at enmity with one who loves them ; who 
that is himself gentle and free from envy will be jealous of one 
in whom there is no jealousy? Nay, let me answer for you, 
that a few such there may be, but not many who have so 
harsh a temper. 

1 entirely agree with you, he said. 

And do you not agree with me also as to the cause of the 
harsh feeling which the many have towards philosophy ? This 
originates in the pretenders, who enter in, like a band of rev- 
elers, where they have no business, and are always abusing 
and quarreling with them, who make persons instead of things 
the theme of their conversation ; and this is most unbecoming 
in philosophers. 

Most unbecoming. 

For he, Adeimantus, whose mind is fixed upon true being 
has no time to look down upon the affairs of men, or to be 
filled with jealousy and enmity in the struggle against them ; 
his eye is ever directed towards fixed and immutable princi- 
ples, which he sees neither injuring nor injured by one an- 
other, but all in order moving according to reason ; these he 
imitates, and to these he would, as far as he can, conform him- 
self. Can a man help imitating that with which he holds rev- 
erential converse? 

Impossible. 

And the philosopher also, conversing with the divine and 
immutable, becomes a part of that divine and immutable or- 
der, 14 as far as nature allows ; but all things are liable to de- 
traction. 

Certainly. 

And if a necessity be laid upon him of fashioning, not 

14 The thought that if we lovingly attend to the divine, we shall imitate 
the divine, and that if we lovingly imitate the divine we shall become divine 
and eternal is the argument of S. John xv. 



3IO PLATO THE TEACHER 

only himself but human nature generally, whether in States or 
individuals, into that which he there beholds, think you that 
he will be an unskillful artificer of justice, temperance, and 
every civil virtue ? 

Anything but unskillful. 

And if the world perceives that we are speaking the truth 
about him, will they be angry with philosophy? Will they 
disbelieve us, when we tell them that the State can only be 
happy which is planned by artists who make use of the heav- 
enly pattern ? 

They will not be angry if they only understand, he 
replied. But what do you mean about the plan ? 

I mean, I replied, that they will take a State and human 
nature for their tablet and begin by making a clean surface. 
Now this is not an easy thing to do ; and this is the mark 
which at once distinguishes them from every other legis- 
lator, — they will have nothing to do, either with individual 
or State, and will inscribe no laws, until they have either 
found, or themselves made, a clean surface. 

They will be very right, he said. 

Having effected this, they will proceed to make an outline 
of the constitution. 

No doubt. 

And in the course of the work, as I conceive, they will 
often turn their eyes first towards one, then towards the other. 
I mean that they will look at justice and beauty and temper- 
ance as they are in nature, and again at the corresponding 
quality in mankind, and they will inlay the true human image, 
moulding and selecting out of the various forms of life ; and 
this they will conceive according to that other image, which, 
when existing among men, Homer calls the form and likeness 
of God. 

That is true, he said. 

And one feature they will erase, and another they will in- 
scribe, until they have made the ways of men, as far as possi- 
ble, agreeable to the ways of God ? 

Indeed, he said, in no other way could they make a fairer 
picture. 

And now, I said, do you think that we are beginning to 
persuade those whom you said were rushing at us with might 
and main, that the painter of constitutions is such an one as 



THE REPUBLIC 311 

we were praising, — he, I mean, at whom they were so much 
infuriated, because into his hands we committed the State, 
or are they growing calmer at what they hear ? 

Much calmer, if there is any sense in them. 

Why, where can they still find any ground for objection ? 
Will they doubt that the philosopher is a lover of truth and 
being ? 

That would be monstrous. 

Or that his nature, being such as we have delineated, is akin 
to the highest good ? 

Neither can they doubt that. 

But again, will they tell us that such a nature, if properly 
trained, will not be perfectly good and wise as much as any 
that ever was ? Or will they prefer those whom we have 
set aside ? 

Surely not. 

Then will they still be angry at our saying, that until 
philosophers bear rule in States, the evils of States and indi- 
viduals will never cease, nor will this our imaginary State ever 
be realized ? 

I think that they will be less angry. 

Shall we assume that they are not only less angry but quite 
gentle, and that they have been converted and for very 
shame cannot refuse to come to terms ? ^ 03 

Certainly, he said. 

Then now we may assume that they have been converted. 
And will any one deny the other point, that there may be 
sons of kings who are philosophers ? 

No one will doubt that, he said. 

And when they have come into being will any one say that 
they must of necessity be destroyed ; for that they can hardly 
be saved is not denied even by us, but all will allow that, in 
the whole course of ages, peradventure a single one may be 
saved ? 

Surely. 

But, said I, one is enough ; let there be one man who has 
a city obedient to his will, and he might bring the ideal pol- 
ity into being. 

Yes, one is enough. 

When the ruler has framed these laws and institutions, 
the citizens may possibly be willing to obey them ? 



312 PLATO THE TEACHER 

Certainly. 

And that others should approve of what we approve, is no 
miracle or impossibility ? 

I think not. 

But we have sufficiently shown, in what has preceded, that 
all this, if only possible, is assuredly for the best. 

Yes, that has been proved. 

The conclusion is, then, that our laws are best, and, though 
difficult of attainment, are not wholly unattainable. 

Very good. 

And now that this difficulty is ended another arises ; how 
and by what studies and pursuits will saviours of the consti- 
tution be formed, and at what ages are they to apply them- 
selves to their several studies ? — that has now to be dis- 
cussed. 

Yes, certainly. 

I omitted the troublesome business of the possession of 
women, and the procreation of children, and the appointment 
of the rulers, because I knew that the perfect State would be 
eyed with jealousy and was difficult of attainment ; but that 
piece of cleverness was not of much use to me, for I had to 
discuss them all the same. And now, having done with the 
women and children, I must pursue the other question of the 
rulers, beginning at the beginning. We were saying, as you 
will remember, that they were to be lovers of their country, 
tried amid the influences of pleasures and pains, and 
neither in labors, nor fears, nor any other change of cir- 
cumstances were to lose their patriotism ; and he who failed 
in this was to be rejected, but he who always came forth pure, 
like gold tried in the refiners' fire, was to be made a ruler, 
and to receive honors and rewards in life and after death. 
That was the sort of thing which was being said, and then the 
argument turned aside and veiled her face \ not liking to stir 
the question which has now arisen. 

I perfectly remember that, he said. 

Yes, my friend, I said, and I then shrank from hazarding 
the bold word ; but now let me dare to say, — that the per- 
fect guardian must be a philosopher. 

Yes, he said, let that be proclaimed. 

And consider, I said, that there will not be many of 
them, — that is not to be expected ; for the gifts which we said 



THE REPUBLIC 313 

were essential rarely grow together ; they are mostly found in 
shreds and patches. 

What do you mean? he said. 

You are aware, I replied, that persons who have quick in- 
telligence, memory, sagacity, shrewdness, and all that sort of 
thing, are not often of a nature which is willing at the same 
time to live orderly and in a peaceful and settled manner ; 
and this is equally true of the high-spirited and magnanimous ; 
they are driven any way by their impetuosity, and all their 
solid principle goes out of them. 

That is true, he said. 

On the other hand, those steadfast, immovable natures upon 
which you can rely, and which have not the wit to run away 
in a battle, are equally immovable when there is anything to 
be learned ; they seem to be in a torpid state, and are apt to 
yawn and go to sleep over any intellectual toil. 

That is true. 

And yet we were saying that both qualities were necessary 
in those to whom the higher education is to be imparted, and 
who are to share in any office or command. 

True, he said. 

And will they be a class which is rarely found? 

Yes, indeed. 

Then the aspirant must be tested in those labors and dan- 
gers and pleasures which we mentioned before ; and there is 
another kind of probation which we did not mention, — they 
must be exercised also in many kinds of knowledge, to see 
whether the soul will be able to endure the highest of all, or 

will faint under them, as many do amid the toils of the 

504 
games. 

Yes, he said, that is the way in which we ought to regard 
them. But what do you mean by the highest of all knowl- 
edge? 

You may remember, I said, that we divided the soul into 
three parts, 15 and the several natures of justice, temperance, 
courage, and wisdom were compared and defined by us ? 

Indeed, he said, if I had forgotten that, I should not deserve 
to hear more. 

And do you remember, I said, what preceded the discussion 
of them ? 

15 See Book IV. , 435-442. 



314 PLATO THE TEACHER 

What was that? 

We spoke, if I am not mistaken, of a perfect way, which 
was longer and more circuitous, at the end of which they 
were to appear in full view ; this however, as we said, need 
not prevent our offering an exposition of a popular sort, in 
character like what had preceded. And you replied that such 
an exposition would be enough for you, and so the inquiry 
was continued in what appeared to me to be a very imperfect 
manner ; but whether you were satisfied or not is for you to 
say. 

Yes, he said, I thought and the others thought that you 
gave us a fair measure of truth. 

But, my friend, I said, a measure of such things which in 
any degree falls short of the truth is not fair measure ; for 
nothing imperfect is the measure of anything, although per- 
sons are too apt to be contented and think that they need 
search no further. 

Yes, that is not uncommon when people are indolent. 

Yes, I said ; and there cannot be any worse fault in the 
guardian of a State and the laws. 

True. 

The guardian then, I said, must be required to take the 
longer route, and toil at learning as well as at gymnastics, or 
he will never reach the height of that knowledge which is his 
proper calling. 

What, he said, is there a knowledge still higher than these 
— higher than justice and the other virtues ? 

Yes, I said, there is. And of these too we must behold not 
the outline merely, as at present — nothing short of the most 
perfect representation should satisfy us. When little things 
are elaborated with an infinity of pains, in order that they may 
appear in full clearness and precision, how ridiculous that the 
highest truths should not be held worthy of the greatest 
exactness ! 

Yes, said he, and that is a right noble thought ; but do you 
suppose that we shall refrain from asking you which are the 
highest ? 

Nay, I said, ask if you will ; but I am certain that you 

have often heard the answer, and now you either do not 

understand or you are disposed to be troublesome ; I incline 

to think the latter, for you have been often told that the idea 



THE REPUBLIC 315 

of good is the highest knowledge, and that all other things be- 
come useful and advantageous only by their use of this. And 
you must be quite aware that of this I am about to speak, con- 
cerning which, as I shall say, we know so little ; and, wanting 
which, any other knowledge or possession of any kind will 
profit us nothing. Do you think that the possession of the 
whole world is of any value without the good ? or of all wis- 
dom, without the beautiful and good ? I6 

No, indeed, he said. 

You are doubtless aware that most people call pleasure good, 
and the finer sort of wits say wisdom ? And you are aware 
that the latter cannot explain the nature of wisdom, but are 
obliged after all to say that wisdom is of the good ? 

That is very ridiculous, he said. 

Yes, I said, that they should begin by reproaching us with 
our ignorance, and then presume our knowledge of good — for 
wisdom, as they say, is of the good, which implies that we un- 
derstand them when they use the term " good " — is certainly 
ridiculous. 

Most true, he said. 

And those who make pleasure their good are in equal per- 
plexity ; for they are compelled to admit that there are bad 
pleasures as well as good. 

Certainly. 

And therefore to acknowledge that bad and good are the 
same? 

True. 

There can be no doubt about the numerous difficulties in 
which this question is involved. 

There can be none. 

Well, and is not this an obvious fact, that many are willing 
to possess, or to do, or to wear the appearance of the just and 
honorable without the reality ; but no one is satisfied to possess 
the appearance of good — the reality is what they seek ; the 
appearance in the case of the good is despised by every one. 

Very true, he said. 

This, then, which every man pursues and makes his end, 
having a presentiment that there is such an end, and yet hesi- 
tating because neither knowing the nature nor having the same 

ie «« What is a man profited if he gain the whole world and lose his own 
souL" — Matthew xvi. 26. 



316 PLATO THE TEACHER 

sure proof of this as of other things, and therefore having no 
profit in other things, — is this, I would ask, a principle about 

, which those who are called the best men in the State, 
and to whom everything is to be entrusted, ought to be 
in such darkness ? 

Certainly not, he said. 

I am sure, I said, that he who does not know how the beau- 
tiful and the just are likewise good will not be worth much as 
a guardian of them : and I suspect that no one will have a true 
knowledge of them without this knowledge. 

That, he said, is a shrewd suspicion of yours. 

And if we only have a guardian who has this knowledge our 
State will be perfectly ordered ? 

Of course, he replied ; but I wish you would tell me whether 
you conceive this supreme principle of the good to be knowl- 
edge or pleasure, or different from either? 

Aye, I said, I knew quite well that a fine gentleman like you 
would not be contented with the thoughts of other men. 

True, Socrates ; and I must say that you have no right to 
be always repeating the opinions of others, and never to tell 
your own, and this after having passed a lifetime in the study 
of philosophy. 

Well, but has any one a right to say, positively, what he 
does not know ? 

Not, he said, with the positiveness of knowledge ; he has no 
right to do that : but he ought to say what he thinks, as a 
matter of opinion. 

But do you not know, I said, that opinions are bad all, and 
the best of them blind? You would not deny that those who 
have any true notion without intelligence are only like blind 
men finding their way along a straight road ? 

Very true. 

And do you wish to behold what is blind and crooked and 
base, when brightness and beauty are within your reach ? 

Still, I must implore you, Socrates, said Glaucon, not to 
turn away just as you are reaching the goal ; if you will only 
give such an explanation of the good as you have already given 
about justice and temperance and the other virtues, that will 
satisfy us. 

Yes, my friend, I said, and that will satisfy me too, extremely 
well, but I cannot help fearing that I shall fail, and that in my 



THE REPUBLIC 317 

zeal I shall make a fool of myself. No, sweet sirs, let us not 
at present ask what is the actual nature of the good, for to 
reach what is in my thoughts now is too much for me in my 
present mood. But of the child of the good who is likest him, 
I would fain speak, if I could be sure that you wished to hear 
— otherwise, not. 

Nay, he said, speak ; the child shall be the interest, and you 
shall remain in our debt for an account of the parent or 
principal. 

I do indeed wish, I replied, that I could pay, and you 
receive, the parent or principal account, and not, as now, the 
interest or child only ; take, however, the child, which 
is the interest, and at the same time have a care that I 5 ,^ 
do not render a false account, although I have no inten- 
tion of deceiving you. 

Yes, we will take all the care that we can : proceed. 

Yes, I said, but I must first come to an understanding with 
you, and remind you of what I have mentioned in the course 
of this discussion, and at many other times. 

What is that ? he said. 

The old story, that there is a many beautiful and a many 
good, and so of other things which we describe and define ; to 
all of them the term " many " is applied. 

True, he said. 

And there is an absolute beauty and an absolute good, and 
so of other things to which the term " many" is applied ; they 
may be brought under a single idea, which is called the es- 
sence of each. 

That is true. 

The many, as we say, are seen but not known, and the ideas 
are known but not seen. 

[There is an analogy between material vision and intellectual 
vision. The material sun generates and nourishes the things 
in the world which we see, and also gives us light by which 
to see them. In like manner the good is the true creator of 
the essence of things and also the author of all knowledge of 
the essence of things. It may be said that material vision 
gives two degrees of imperfect knowledge or opinion, the more 
imperfect being the perception of shadows, and the less imper- 
fect being the perception of material objects ; also that intel- 



318 PLATO THE TEACHER 

lectual vision gives two degrees of more perfect knowledge, 
the lower being such knowledge as we have in the pure sci- 
ences of arithmetic, geometry and the like, while the highest 
of all knowledge is dialectic, which brings us to a pure insight 
into pure truth.") 



THE REPUBLIC 319 



BOOK VII 

After this, I said, imagine the enlightenment or ignorance 
of our nature in a figure : Behold ! human beings living in a 
sort of underground den, which has a mouth open towards the 
light and reaching all across the den ; they have been here 
from their childhood, and have their legs and necks chained 
so that they cannot move, and can only see before them ; for 
the chains are arranged in such a manner as to prevent them 
from turning round their heads. At a distance above and be- 
hind them the light of a fire is blazing, and between the fire 
and the prisoners there is a raised way ; and you will see, if 
you look, a low wall built along the way, like the screen which 
marionette players have before them, over which they show 
the puppets. 

I see, he said. 

And do you see, I said, men passing along the wall carrying 
vessels, which appear over the wall ; also figures of men 
and animals, made of wood and stone and various mate- 
rials ; and some of the passengers, as you would expect, are 
talking, and some of them are silent ? 

That is a strange image, he said, and they are strange pris- 
oners. 

Like ourselves, I replied ; and they see only their own shad- 
ows, or the shadows of one another, which the fire throws on 
the opposite wall of the cave ? 

True, he said ; how could they see anything but the shadows 
if they were never allowed to move their heads ? 

And of the objects which are being carried in like manner 
they would only see the shadows ? 

Yes, he said. 

And if they were able to talk with one another, would they 
not suppose that they were naming what was actually before 
them? 

Very true. 

And suppose further that the prison had an echo which 
came from the other side, would they not be sure to fancy 
that the voice which they heard was that of a passing shadow? 

No question, he replied. 



320 PLATO THE TEACHER 

There can be no question, I said, that the truth would be 
to them just nothing but the shadows of the images. 

That is certain. 

And now look again, and see how they are released and 
cured of their folly. At first, when any one of them is lib- 
erated and compelled suddenly to go up and turn his neck 
round and walk and look at the light, he will suffer sharp 
pains; the glare will distress him, and he will be unable to 
see the realities of which in his former state he had seen the 
shadows ; and then imagine some one saying to him, that 
what he saw before was an illusion, but that now he is ap- 
proaching real being and has a truer sight and vision of more 
real things, — what will be his reply? And you may further 
imagine that his instructor is pointing to the objects as they 
pass and requiring him to name them, — will he not be in a 
difficulty ? Will he not fancy that the shadows which he 
formerly saw are truer than the objects which are now shown 
to him ? 

Far truer. 

And if he is compelled to look at the light, will he not have 
a pain in his eyes which will make him turn away to take 
refuge in the object of vision which he can see, and which he 
will conceive to be clearer than the things which are now 
being shown to him? 

True, he said. 

And suppose once more, that he is reluctantly dragged up 
a steep and rugged ascent, and held fast and forced into the 

, presence of the sun himself, do you not think that he 

will be pained and irritated, and when he approaches 

the light he will have his eyes dazzled, and will not be able 

to see any of the realities which are now affirmed to be the 

truth ? 

Not all in a moment, he said. 

He will require to get accustomed to the sight of the upper 
world. And first he will see the shadows best, next the reflec- 
tions of men and other objects in the water, and then the ob- 
jects themselves ; next he will gaze upon the light of the moon 
and the stars ; and he will see the sky and the stars by night, 
better than the sun, or the light of the sun, by day? 

Certainly. 

And at last he will be able to see the sun, and not mere re- 



THE REPUBLIC 321 

flections of him in the water, but he will see him as he is in his 
own proper place, and not in another, and he will contemplate 
his nature. 

Certainly. 

And after this he will reason that the sun is he who gives 
the seasons and the years, and is the guardian of all that is in 
the visible world, and in a certain way the cause of all things 
which he and his fellows have been accustomed to behold ? 

Clearly, he said, he would come to the other first and to 
this afterwards. 

And when he remembered his old habitation, and the wis- 
dom of the den and his fellow-prisoners, do you not suppose 
that he would felicitate himself on the change, and pity them? 

Certainly, he would. 

And if they were in the habit of conferring honors on those 
who were quickest to observe and remember and foretell which 
of the shadows went before, and which followed after, and 
which were together, do you think that he would care for 
such honors and glories, or envy the possessors of them ? 
Would he not say with Homer, — 

" Better to be a poor man, and have a poor master," 

and endure anything, rather than to think and live after their 
manner ? 

Yes, he said, I think that he would rather suffer anything 
than live after their manner. 

Imagine once more, I said, that such an one coming sud- 
denly out of the sun were to be replaced in his old situation, 
is he not certain to have his eyes full of darkness ? 

Very true, he said. 

And if there were a contest, and he had to compete in 
measuring the shadows with the prisoners who have never 
moved out of the den, during the time that his sight is 
weak, and before his eyes are steady (and the time which 
would be needed to acquire this new habit of sight might be 
very considerable) , would he not be ridiculous ? Men would say 
of him that up he went and down he comes without his eyes ; 
and that there was no use in even thinking of ascending : and 
if any one tried to loose another and lead him up to the light, 
let them only catch the offender in the act, and they would 
put him to death. 

21 



322 PLATO THE TEACHER 

No question, he said. 

This allegory, I said, you may now append to the previous 
argument ; the prison is the world of sight, the light of the 
fire is the sun, the ascent and vision of the things above you 
may truly regard as the upward progress of the soul into the 
intellectual world ; that is my poor belief, to which, at your 
desire, I have given expression. Whether I am right or not 
God only knows ; but, whether true or false, my opinion is 
that in the world of knowledge the idea of good appears last 
of all, and is seen only with an effort ; and, when seen, is also 
inferred to be the universal author of all things beautiful and 
right, parent of light and the lord of light in this world, and 
the source of truth and reason in the other : this is the first 
great cause which he who would act rationally either in pub- 
lic or private life must behold. 

I agree, he said, as far as I am able to understand you. 

I should like to have your agreement in another matter, I 
said. For I would not have you marvel that those who attain 
to this beatific vision are unwilling to descend to human af- 
fairs ; but their souls are ever hastening into the upper world 
in which they desire to dwell ; and this is very natural, if our 
allegory may be trusted. 

Certainly, that is quite natural. 

And is there anything surprising in one who passes from 
divine contemplations to human things, misbehaving himself 
in a ridiculous manner ; if, while his eyes are blinking and 
before he has become accustomed to the darkness visible, he 
is compelled to fight in courts of law, or in other places, about 
the images or shadows of images of justice, and is endeavoring 
to meet the conceptions of those who have never yet seen the 
absolute justice ? 

There is nothing surprising in that, he replied. 

Any one who has common sense will remember that the 

R bewilderments of the eyes are of two kinds, and arise 
from two causes, either from coming out of the light or 
from going into the light, which is true of the mind's eye, 
quite as much as of the bodily eye ; and he who remembers 
this when he sees the soul of any one whose vision is perplexed 
and weak, will not be too ready to laugh ; he will first ask 
whether that soul has come out of the brighter life, and is un- 
able to see because unaccustomed to the dark, or having 



THE REPUBLIC 323 

turned from darkness to the day is dazzled by excess of light. 
And then he will count the one happy in his condition and 
state of being, and he will pity the other ; or, if he have a 
mind to laugh at the soul which comes from below into the 
light, there will be more reason in this than in the laugh 
which greets the other from the den. 

That, he said, is a very just remark. 

But if this is true, then certain professors of education 
must be mistaken in saying that they can put a knowledge 
into the soul which was not there before, like giving eyes to 
the blind. 

Yes, that is what they say, he replied. 

Whereas, I said, our argument shows that the power is 
already in the soul ; and that as the eye cannot turn from 
darkness to light without the whole body, so too, when the 
eye of the soul is turned round, the whole soul must be turned 
from the world of generation into that of being, and become 
able to endure the sight of being, and of the brightest and 
best of being — that is to say, of the good. 

Very true. 

And this is conversion ; and the art will be how to accom- 
plish this as easily and completely as possible ; not implant- 
ing eyes, for they exist already, but giving them a right direc- 
tion, which they have not. 

Yes, he said, that may be assumed. 

And hence while the other qualities seem to be akin to the 
body, being infused by habit and exercise and not originally 
innate, the virtue of wisdom is part of a divine essence, and 
has a power which is everlasting, and by this conversion is 
rendered useful and profitable, and is also capable of becoming 
hurtful and useless. Did you never observe the narrow 
intelligence flashing from the keen eye of a clever rogue 
— how eager he is, how clearly his paltry soul sees the way to 
his end ; he is the reverse of blind, but his keen eyesight is 
taken into the service of evil, and he is dangerous in propor- 
tion to his intelligence ? 

Very true, he said. 

But what if there had been a circumcision of such natures in 
the days of their youth ; and they had been severed from the 
leaden weights, as I may call them, with which they are born 
into the world, which hang on to sensual pleasures, such as 



324 PLATO THE TEACHER 

those of eating and drinking, and drag them down and turn 
the vision of their souls about the things that are below, — if,I 
say, they had been released from them and turned round to the 
truth, the very same faculty in these very same persons would 
have seen the other as keenly as they now see that on which 
their eye is fixed. 

That is very likely. 

Yes, I said ; and there is another thing which is likely, or 
rather a necessary inference from what has preceded, that 
neither the uneducated and uninformed of the truth, nor yet 
those who never make an end of their education, will be able 
ministers of State : not the former, because they have no sin- 
gle aim of duty which is the rule of their actions, private as 
well as public ; nor the latter, because they will not act at all 
except upon compulsion, fancying that they are already in the 
islands of the blest. 

Very true, he replied. 

Then, I said, the business of us who are the founders of the 
State will be to compel the best minds to attain that knowl- 
edge which has been already declared by us to be the greatest 
of all, — to that eminence they must ascend and arrive at the 
good, and when they have ascended and seen enough we 
must not allow them to do as they do now. 

What do you mean ? 

I mean that they remain in the upper world : but this must 
not be allowed ; they must be made to descend again among 
the prisoners in the den, and partake of their labors and 
honors, whether they are worth having or not. 1 

But is not this unjust ? he said ; ought we to give them an 
inferior life, when they might have a superior one ? 

You have again forgotten, my friend, I said, the intention 
of the legislator ; he did not aim at making any one class in 
the State happy above the rest ; the happiness was to be in 
the whole State, and he held the citizens together 
by persuasion and necessity, making them benefactors 
of the State, and therefore benefactors of one another ; to 
this end he created them, not that they should please them- 

1 On the Mount of Transfiguration (Luke ix. 33) Peter said, " Master, it is 
good for us to be here : and let us make three tabernacles." Luke adds the 
phrase — " not knowing what he said." Christ made no reply in words, but 
presently led them back to work and to die for the saving of the world. 



THE REPUBLIC 325 

selves, but they were to be his instruments in binding up the 
State. 

True, he said, I had forgotten that. 

Observe then, I said, Glaucon, that there will be no in- 
justice in compelling our philosophers to have a care and 
providence of others ; we shall explain to them that in other 
States, men of their class are not obliged to share in the toils 
of politics : and this is reasonable, for they grow up at their 
own sweet will, and the government would rather not have 
them. Now the wild plant which owes culture to nobody, 
has nothing to pay for culture ; but we have brought you into 
the world expressly for this end, that you may be rulers of the 
hive, kings of yourselves and of the other citizens. And you 
have been educated far better and more perfectly than they 
have, and are better able to share in the double duty. And 
therefore each of you, when his turn comes, must go down to 
the general underground abode, and get the habit of seeing in 
the dark ; for all is habit ; and when you are accustomed you 
will see ten thousand times better than those in the den, and 
you will know what the images are, and of what they are im- 
ages, because you have seen the beautiful and just and good 
in their truth. And thus the order of our State will be a wak- 
ing reality, and not a dream, as is commonly the manner of 
States ; in most of them men are fighting with one another 
about shadows and are distracted in the struggle for power, 
which in their eyes is a great good. But the truth is, that the 
State in which the rulers are most reluctant to govern is best 
and most quietly governed, and that in which they are most 
willing, the worst. 

Quite true, he replied. 

And will our pupils, when they hear this, refuse to share in 
turn the toils of State, when they are allowed to spend the 
greater part of their time with one another in the heaven of 
ideas? 

Impossible, he answered ; for they are just men, and the 
commands which we impose upon them are just ; there can be 
no doubt that every one of them will take office as a stern ne- 
cessity and not like our present ministers of State. 

Yes, my friend, I said ; and that is just the truth of 
the case. If you contrive for your future rulers another 
and a better life than that of a ruler, then you may have 



326 PLATO THE TEACHER 

a well-ordered State ; for only in the State which offers 
this will they rule who are truly rich, not in silver and gold, 
but in virtue and wisdom, which are the true blessings of life. 
Whereas if they go to the administration of public affairs, poor 
and hungering after their own private advantage, thinking that 
hence they are to snatch the good of life, order there can 
never be ; for they will be fighting about office, and the civil 
and domestic broils which thus arise will be the ruin of the 
rulers themselves and of the whole State. 

Most true, he replied. 

And the only life which looks down upon the life of political 
ambition is that of true philosophy? Do you know of any other? 

No, indeed, he said. 

And those who govern ought not to be lovers of the task ? 

If they are there will be rival lovers, and they will fight. 

No question. 

Whom then would you choose rather than those who are 
wisest about affairs of State, and who at the same time have 
other honors and another and a better life ? 

They are the men, and I will choose them, he replied. 

Would you like us then to consider in what way such guar- 
dians may be called into existence, and how they are to be 
brought from darkness to light, — as some are said to have as- 
cended from the world below to the gods ? 

Certainly I should, he replied. 

The process, I said, is not the spinning round of an oyster- 
shell,- but the conversion of a soul out of night-like day to the 
real ascent of true being, which is true philosophy. Now 
what sort of knowledge has the power of effecting this ? that 
is a question which has to be considered. 

Certainly. 

Then what sort of knowledge is there which would draw 
the soul from becoming to being ? At the same time there is 
another thing which occurs to me. You will remember that 
our young men are to be warrior athletes ? 

Yes, that was said. 

Then this new kind of knowledge must have another 
quality ? 

2 In allusion to " a game in which a shell black on one side and white on 
the other was thrown on a line and according as the black or white turned 
up one party was obliged to fly and the other pursued." (L. and S.) 



THE REPUBLIC 327 

What quality? 

Usefulness in war. 

Yes, if possible. 

There were two parts in our former scheme of education, 
were there not ? 

True. 

There was gymnastic which presided over the growth and 
decay of the body, and may therefore be regarded as having 
to do with generation and corruption ? 

True. 

Then that is not the knowledge which we are seeking 
to discover ? 

No. 

But what do you say of music, as far as that entered into 
our scheme ? 

That, he said, as you will remember, was the counterpart 
of gymnastic, and trained the guardians by the influences of 
habit, giving them, not science, but a sort of harmonical 
composition, and a kind of rhythmical movement ; and the 
words, whether true or false, had kindred elements of rhythm 
and harmony in them ; but musical knowledge was not of a 
kind which tended to that good which you are now seeking. 

You are most accurate, I said, in your recollection ; for 
there certainly was nothing of that kind in our previous edu- 
cation. But then what branch of knowledge is there, my 
dear friend, which is of the desired nature? For the useful 
arts were rejected by us as mean. 

Undoubtedly ; and yet if music and gymnastic are ex- 
cluded, and the arts are also excluded, what remains? 

Well, I said, there may be nothing left ; and then we shall 
have to take something which is of universal application. 

What is that ? 

A something which all arts and sciences and intelligences 
use in common, and which every one ought to learn among 
the elements of education. 

What is that ? 

The little matter of distinguishing one, two, and three, 
which I may sum up under the name of number and calcula- 
tion, — of that all arts and sciences are necessarily partakers. 

Very true. 

Then the art of war partakes of them ? 



328 PLATO THE TEACHER 

To be sure. 

Then Palamedes, 3 when he appears in the play, proves Aga- 
memnon 4 ridiculously unfit to be a general. Did you never 
remark how he declares that he had invented number, and had 
numbered and set in array the ranks of the army at Troy ; 
which implies that they had never been numbered before, and 
Agamemnon must be supposed literally to have been incapable 
of counting his own feet — how could he, if he was ignorant of 
number ? And if that is true, what sort of a general must he 
have been ? 

I should say a very strange one, certainly. 

Must not a warrior then, I said, in addition to his military 
skill, have a knowledge of arithmetic ? 

Certainly he must, if he is to have the slightest knowledge 
of military tactics, or indeed, I should rather say, if he is to 
be a man at all. 

I should like to know whether you have the same notion 
which I have of this study ? 

What is that ? 

I am of opinion that this is a study of the kind which we 
are seeking, and which leads naturally to reflection, 
5 2 3 3 but one which has never been rightly used as simply 
conducting towards being. 

Will you explain your meaning? he said. 

I will try, I said ; and I wish you would consider and help 
me, and say "yes" or " no " when I attempt to distinguish 
in my own mind what branches of knowledge have this con- 
ducting power, in order that we may have clearer proof that 
this is one of them. 

[Some objects we seem able to know sufficiently with the 
senses alone. Others demand further investigation. In mak- 
ing this investigation we find it profitable to count and calcu- 
late. But besides this practical value, " arithmetic has a very 
great and elevating effect, compelling the soul to reason about 
abstract number, and if visible or tangible objects are obtrud- 
ing upon the argument, refusing to be satisfied."] 

That is very true. 

Now, suppose a person were to say to the arithmeticians : 

3 See Apology, note 55. 4 See Apology, note 21. 









THE REPUBLIC 329 

O my friends, what are these wonderful numbers about which 
you are reasoning, in which, as you say, there is a unity such 
as you require, and each unit is equal, invariable, indi- , 
visible, what would they answer ? 

They would answer, as I suppose, that they are speaking of 
those numbers which are only realized in thought. 

Then you see that this knowledge may be truly called neces- 
sary, as necessitating the use of the pure intelligence in the 
attainment of pure truth ? 

Yes ; that is a marked characteristic. 

And have you further remarked that those who have a nat- 
ural talent for calculation are generally quick at every other 
kind of knowledge ; and even the dull, if they have had an 
arithmetical training, gain in quickness, if not in any other way? 

That is true, he said. 

And indeed, you will not easily find a more difficult study, 
and not many as difficult. 

You will not. 

And, for all these reasons, arithmetic must not be given up ; 
and this is a kind of knowledge in which the best natures 
should be trained. 

I agree. 

Let this then be made one of our subjects of education. 
And next, shall we inquire whether the kindred science also 
concerns us ? 

You mean geometry ? 

Yes. 

Certainly, he said ; that part of geometry which relates to 
war is clearly our concern ; for in pitching a camp, or taking 
up a position, or closing or extending the lines of an army, or 
any other military manoeuvre, whether in actual battle or on a 
march, there will be a great difference in a general, according 
as he is or is not a geometrician. 

Yes, I said, but for that purpose a very little of either geom- 
etry or calculation will be enough ; the question is rather of 
the higher and greater part of geometry, whether that tends 
towards the great end — I mean towards the vision of the idea of 
good ; and thither, as I was saying, all things tend which com- 
pel the soul to turn her gaze towards that place, where is the 
full perfection of being, of which she ought, by all means, to 
attain the vision. 



330 PLATO THE TEACHER 

True, he said. 

Then if geometry compels ns to view essence, it concerns 
us ; if generation only, it does not concern us ? 

Yes, that is what we assert. 

Yet, at present, I said, the science is in flat contradiction 
to the language which geometricians use, as will hardly be 
denied by those who have any acquaintance with their 
study; for they speak of finding the side of a square, 
and applying and adding as though they were doing something 
and had a practical end in view; their ''necessity" is the 
necessity to get a living, which is ridiculous ; whereas knowl- 
edge is the real object of the whole science. 

Certainly, he said. 

Then must not a further admission be made ? 

What admission ? 

The admission that this knowledge at which geometry aims 
is of the eternal, and not of the perishing and transient. 

That, he replied, may be readily allowed, and is true. 

Then, my noble friend, geometry will draw the soul towards 
truth, and create the mind of philosophy, and raise up that 
which is now unhappily allowed to fall down. 

Nothing will be more effectual. 

Then nothing should be more effectually enacted, than that 
the inhabitants of your fair city should learn goemetry. More- 
over the science has indirect effects, which are not small. 

Of what kind are they ? he said. 

There are the military advantages of which you spoke, I 
said; and in all departments of study, as experience pro\es, 
any one who has studied geometry is infinitely quicker of ap- 
prehension. 

Yes, he said, the difference between a geometrician and one 
who is not a geometrician is very great indeed. 

Then shall we propose this as a second branch of knowledge 
which our youth will study ? 

Let us make the proposal, he replied. 

And suppose we make astronomy the third, — what do you 
say ? 

I am strongly inclined to that, he said ; the observation of 
the seasons and of months and years is quite essential to hus- 
bandry and navigation, and not less essential to military tactics. 

I am amused, I said, at your fear of the world, which makes 



THE REPUBLIC 331 

you guard against the appearance of insisting upon useless 
studies ; and I quite admit the difficulty of convincing men 
that in every soul there is an organ which is purified and il- 
lumined by these studies, when by other pursuits lost and 
dimmed ; and this eye of the soul is more precious far than 
ten thousand bodily ones, for this alone beholds the vision of 
truth. Now there are two classes of persons : one class who 
will agree in this and will take your words as a revelation ; 
another class who have no perception of the thing meant, to 
whom they will naturally seem to be idle and unprofit- ~ 
able tales. And you had better decide at once with 
which of the two you are arguing, or whether without regard 
to either you would not prefer to carry on the argument chiefly 
for your own sake ; not that you have any jealousy of others, 
who may benefit if they please. 

I think that I should prefer to carry on the argument on my 
own behalf. 

Then take a step backward, for we have gone wrong in the 
order of the sciences. 

What was the mistake? he said. 

After plane geometry, I said, we took solids in revolution, 
instead of taking solids in themselves ; whereas after the sec- 
ond dimension the third, which is concerned with cubes and 
dimensions of depth, ought to have followed. 

That is true, Socrates ; but these subjects seem to be as yet 
hardly explored. 

Why, yes, I said, and for two reasons : in the first place, 
no government patronizes them, which leads to a want of en- 
ergy in the study of them, and they are difficult ; in the second 
place, students cannot learn them unless they have a teacher. 
But then a teacher is hardly to be found, and even if one could 
be found, as matters now stand, the students of these subjects, 
who are very conceited, would not mind him. That, however, 
would be otherwise if the whole State patronized and honored 
them ; then they would listen, and there would be continuous 
and earnest search, and discoveries would be made ; since even 
now, disregarded as they are by the world, and maimed of 
their fair proportions, and although none of their votaries can 
tell the use of them, still these studies force their way by their 
natural charm, and very likely they may emerge into light. 

Yes, he said, there is a remarkable charm in them. But I 



332 PLATO THE TEACHER 

do not clearly understand the change in the order. First you 
began with a geometry of plane surfaces ? 

Yes, I said. 

And you placed astronomy next, and then you made a step 
backward ? 

Yes, I said, the more haste the less speed ; the ludicrous 
state of solid geometry made me pass over this branch and go 
on to astronomy, or motion of solids. 

True, he said. 

Then regarding the science now omitted as supplied, if only 
encouraged by the State, let us go on to astronomy. 

That is the natural order, he said. And now, Socrates, as 
you rebuked the vulgar manner in which I praised astronomy 
before, my praises shall accord with the method of your 
52 " = inquiry. For every one, as I think, must feel that as- 
tronomy compels the soul to look upwards, and leads us 
from this world to another. 

I am an exception then, for I should rather say that those 
who elevate astronomy into philosophy make us look down- 
wards and not upwards. 

Why, how is that ? he asked. 

You, I replied, have evidently a sublime conception of the 
knowledge of the things above. And I dare say that if a per- 
son were to throw his head back and study the fretted ceiling, 
you would still think that his mind was the percipient, and not 
his eyes. And you are very likely right, and I may be a sim- 
pleton : for, in my opinion, only that knowledge which is of 
being and the unseen can make the soul look upwards, and 
whether a man gapes at the heavens or blinks on the ground, 
seeking to learn some particular of sense, I would deny that 
he can learn, for nothing of that sort is matter of science ; his 
soul is looking, not upwards, but downwards, whether his 
way to knowledge is by water or by land, and he may float on 
his back in either element. 

I acknowledge, he said, the justice of your rebuke. Still, I 
should like to know how astronomy can be learned in any 
other way more conducive to that knowledge of which we 
speak ? 

[The true object of astronomy is not the starry heavens, 
beautiful as they are to the eyes, but the laws of pure 



THE REPUBLIC 333 

motion. And astronomy must be pursued as an abstract 
science if "it is to become a real part of education, im- 
proving the natural use of reason." In like manner the true 
science of harmony does not concern itself with sounds and 
consonances that appear to the ear, nor even with the numeri- 
cal relations between such sounds, but with the " natural har- 
monies of number. ' ' Such study seems to some a thing of 
" more than mortal knowledge " but it is in the highest de- 
gree useful, " if pursued with a view to the beautiful and 
good. ' ' Socrates continues : ] 

Now, when all these studies reach the point of intercom- 
munion and connection with one another, and come to be 
considered in their mutual affinities, then, I think, but not till 
then, will the pursuit of them have a value for our objects; 
otherwise they are useless. 

That, Socrates, is also my own notion ; but it is a vast work 
of which you speak. 

[Socrates says : The science for which pure arithmetic, 
geometry, astronomy, and harmony prepare the way is dialec- 
tic. Those sciences only prepare the way and do not them- 
selves attain to the highest truth ; but no one can understand 
dialectic who has not been prepared by the proper study of the 
preliminary sciences. The bodily eye, according to the story 
of the den, rose from seeing shadows to seeing images, and 
then objects, and lastly the sun.] 

In like manner, when a person begins dialectics, and starts 
on the discovery of the absolute by the light of reason only, 
and without any assistance of sense, and does not rest until by 
pure intelligence he attains pure good, he finds himself at the 
end of the intellectual world, as in the other case at the end 
of the visible. 

[As in Book VI., it is shown that there are four degrees of 
knowledge: (i) "The knowledge of shadows;" (2) "belief," 
or the perception of objects; (3) "understanding," or the 
knowledge of the abstract sciences, such as arithmetic, geometry, 
etc. ; (4) "science," or "reason," which alone, by dialectic, 
arrives at the absolute truth. If dialectic is thus the "coping- 



334 PLATO THE TEACHER 

stone of the sciences," then surely the children of the State 
who are to be its future rulers should be led to the acquisition 
of this science. Socrates now asks : ] 

But to whom are we to assign these studies, and in what 
way are they to be assigned ? — that is a question which 
remains to be considered. 

Yes, plainly. 

You remember, I said, how the rulers were chosen before ? 

Certainly, he said. 

The same natures must still be chosen, and the preference 
again given to the surest and the bravest, and, if possible, to 
the fairest ; and, having noble and manly tempers, they 
should also have the natural gifts which accord with their 
education. 

And what are they ? 

Such gifts as keenness and ready powers of acquisition ; for 
the mind more often faints from the severity of study than 
from the severity of gymnastics : the toil is more entirely the 
mind's own, and is not shared with the body. 

Very true, he replied. 

Further, he of whom we are in search should have a good 
memory, and be an unwearied, solid man, who is a lover of 
labor in any line, or he will never be able to undergo the 
double toil and trouble of body and mind. 

Certainly, he said ; a man must have some natural gifts. 

The mistake at present is, I said, that those who study phi- 
losophy have no vocation, and this, as I was before saying, is 
the reason why she has fallen into disrepute : her true sons 
should study her and not bastards. 

How do you mean ? 

In the first place, her votary should not have a lame or one 
legged industry. I mean, that he should not be half industri- 
ous and half idle : as, for example, when a man is a lover of 
gymnastic and hunting, and all other bodily exercises, but a 
hater rather than a lover of the labor of learning or hearing or 
inquiry. Or a man may be lame in another way, and the love 
of labor may take an opposite form. 

That is quite true, he said. 

And as to truth, I said, is not a soul to be deemed halt and 
lame who hates voluntary falsehood and is extremely indig- 



THE REPUBLIC 335 

nant at himself and others when they tell lies, and yet receives 
involuntary falsehood, and does not mind wallowing like a 
swinish beast in the mire of ignorance, and has no shame at 
being detected ? 

Most certainly, he said, 

And, again, as to temperance and courage and magnanimity, 
and every other virtue, should they not observe the ways of 
the true son and of the bastard ? for wherever States and , 
individuals have no eye for this sort of qualities, they 
unconsciously make a friend or perhaps a ruler of one who is 
in a figure a lame man or a bastard, from a defect in some one 
of these qualities. 

That is very true, he said. 

All these things, then, will have to be carefully considered, 
and those whom we introduce to this vast system of education 
and training must be sound in limb and mind, and then jus- 
tice herself will have nothing to say against us, and we shall 
be the saviours of the State ; but, if our pupils are men of an- 
other stamp, the reverse will happen, and we shall pour a still 
greater flood of ridicule on philosophy. 

That would be discreditable. 

Yes, I said, that is quite true; and yet, perhaps, in thus 
turning jest into earnest I am equally ridiculous. 

In what respect ? 

I had forgotten, I said, that we were not in earnest, and 
spoke with too much excitement. For when I saw philosophy 
trampled under foot of men I could not help feeling a sort of 
indignation at the authors of her disgrace : and my anger 
made me vehement. 

Indeed ; I did not observe that you were more vehement 
than was right. 

But I felt that I was. And now let me remind you that, 
although in our former selection we chose old men, that will 
not do in this. Solon was under a delusion when he said that 
a man as he is growing older may learn many things, — for he 
can no more learn than he can run ; youth is the time of toil. 

That is certainly true. 

And, therefore, calculation and geometry, and all the other 
elements of instruction, which are a preparation for dialectic, 
should be presented to the mind in childhood; not, however, 
under any notion of forcing them. 



336 PLATO THE TEACHER 

Why not? 

Because a freeman ought to be a freeman in the acquisition 
of knowledge. Bodily exercise, when compulsory, does no 
harm ; but knowledge which is acquired under compulsion has 
no hold on the mind. 

Very true, he said. 

Then, my good friend, I said, do not use compulsion, but 
let early education be a sort of amusement; that will 
better enable you to find out the natural bent. 

There is reason in that, he said. 

Do you remember our saying that the children, too, must 
be taken to see the battle on horseback ; and if there were no 
danger they might be led close up, and, like young hounds, 
have a taste of blood given them? 

Yes, I remember. 

Now that may be practiced, I said, in other things — labors, 
lessons, dangers — and he who appears to be most ready ought 
to be enrolled in a select number. 

At what age ? 

At the age when the necessary gymnastics are over : the pe- 
riod whether of two or three years which passes in this sort of 
training is useless for any other purpose ; for sleep and exer- 
cise are unpropitious to learning : and the trial of who is first 
in gymnastic exercises is one of the most important tests to 
which they are subjected. 

Certainly, he replied. 

After that time those who are selected from the class of 
twenty years old will be promoted to higher honor, and the 
sciences which they learned without any order in their early 
education will now be brought together, and they will be able 
to see the correlation of them to one another and to true be- 
ing. 

Yes, he said, that is the only kind of knowledge which is 
everlasting. 

Yes, I said ; and the capacity for such knowledge is the 
great criterion of dialectical talent : the speculative or com- 
prehensive mind is always the dialectical. 

I agree in that, he said. 

These, I said, are the points which you must consider ; and 
those who have most of this comprehension, and who are most 
steadfast in their learning, and in their military, and generally 



THE REPUBLIC 337 

in their public duties, when they arrive at the age of thirty 
will have to be chosen by you out of the select class, and ele- 
vated to higher honor ; and you will have to prove them by 
the help of dialectic, in order to learn which of them is able 
to give up the use of sight and other senses, and in company 
with truth to attain absolute being. And here, my friend, 
great caution is required. 

Why great caution ? 

Do you not remark, I said, how great the evil is which dia- 
lectic has introduced ? 

What is that ? he said. 

The lawlessness of which the professors of the art 5 are full. 

That is true, he said. 

Do you think that there is anything unnatural in their case ? 
or shall I ask you to make allowance for them ? 

What sort of allowance ? 

I want you, I said, by way of parallel, to imagine a sup- 
posititious son who is brought up in great wealth; he is one of 
a large and numerous family, and has many flatterers. When 
grown up he learns that his alleged are not his real par- _ 
ents ; but who the real ones are he is unable to discover. 
Can you tell me how he will be likely to behave towards his 
flatterers and his supposed parents, first of all during the period 
when he was ignorant of the false relation, and then again 
when he knew ? Or would you like to hear my suspicion ? 

Very much. 

I suspect, then, that while he was ignorant of the truth he 
would be likely to honor his father and his mother and his 
supposed relations more than the flatterers ; he would be less 
willing to see them in want, or to do any violence to them, or 
say anything evil of them, and in important matters less will- 
ing to disobey them. 

That might be expected. 

But when he has made the discovery, I should imagine that 
he would diminish his honor and regard for them, and would 
become more devoted to the flatterers ; their influence over 
him would greatly increase ; he would now live after their 
ways, and openly associate with them, and unless he were of 
an unusually good disposition, he would think no more of his 
parents or other supposed friends. 

5 In reference to the Sophists^see General Introduction, p. xxvii. 
22 



333 PLATO THE TEACHER 

Well, that is extremely probable. But how is the image 
applicable to the disciples of philosophy ? 

In this way: you know that there are certain principles 
about justice and good, which were taught us in childhood, 
and under their parental authority we have been brought up, 
obeying and honoring them. 

That is true. 

And there are also opposite maxims and habits of pleasure 
which flatter and attract our soul, but they do not influence 
those who have any sense of right, and who continue to honor 
the maxims of their fathers and obey them. 

True. 

Now, when a man is in this state, and the questioning spirit 
asks what is fair or honorable, and he answers as the law di- 
rects, and then arguments come and refute the word of the 
legislator, and he is driven into believing that nothing is fair 
any more than foul, or just and good any more than the op- 
posite, and the same of all his time-honored notions, do you 
think that he will still honor and obey them? 

That is impossible. 

And when he ceases to think them honorable and natural as 
heretofore, and he fails to discover the true, can he be 
59 expected to pursue any life other than that which flatters 
his desires ? 

He cannot. 

And from being an observer of the law he is converted into 
a lawless person ? 

Unquestionably. 

Now all this is very natural in those who study philosophy 
in this manner, and also, as I was just now saying, most ex- 
cusable. 

Yes, he said, and, as I may add, pitiable. 

Therefore, that your feelings may not be moved to pity 
about our thirty-years-old citizens, every care must be taken 
in introducing them to dialectic. 

Certainly. 

They must not be allowed to taste the dear delight too 
early ; that is one thing specially to be avoided ; for young 
men, as you may have observed, when they first get the taste in 
their mouths, argue for amusement, and are always contradict- 
ing and refuting others in imitation of those who refute them \ 



THE REPUBLIC 339 

they are like puppy-dogs, who delight to tear and pull at all 
who come near them. 

Yes, he said, that is their great delight. 

And when they have made many conquests and received 
defeats at the hands of many, they violently and speedily get 
into a way of not believing anything that they believed before, 
and hence, not only they, but philosophy generally, has a bad 
name with the rest of the world. 

That is very true, he said. 

But when a man begins to get older, he will no longer be 
guilty of that sort of insanity; he will follow the example of 
the dialectician who is seeking for truth, and not of the 
eristic, 6 who is contradicting for the sake of amusement; and 
the greater moderation of his character will increase and not 
diminish the honor of the pursuit. 

Very true, he said. 

And did we not make special provision for this, when we 
said that the natures of those to whom philosophy was to be 
imparted were to be orderly and steadfast, not, as now, any 
chance aspirant or intruder ? 

Very true, he said. 

Suppose, I said, that the study of philosophy be continued 
diligently and earnestly and exclusively for twice the number 
of years which were passed in bodily exercise — will that be 
enough ? 

Would you say six or four years ? he asked. 

Suppose five years to be the time fixed, I replied ; after 
that they must be sent down into the den and compelled to 
hold any military or other office which young men are quali- 
fied to hold : in this way they will get their experience of 
life, and there will be an opportunity of trying whether, when 
they are drawn all manner of ways by temptation, they will 
stand firm or stir at all. 

And how long is this stage of their lives to last? 

Fifteen years, I answered ; and when they have 
reached fifty years of age, then let those who still survive and 
have distinguished themselves in every deed and in all knowl- 
edge come at last to their consummation : the time has now 
arrived at which they must raise the eye of the soul to the 
universal light which lightens all things, and behold the ab- 
6 Eristic : one who is fond of dispute. 



340 PLATO THE TEACHER 

solute good ; for that is the pattern according to which they 
are to order the State and the lives of individuals, and the re- 
mainder of their own lives also, making philosophy their 
chief pursuit ; but, when their turn comes, also toiling at 
politics and ruling for the public good, not as if they were 
doing some great thing, but of necessity ; and when they 
have brought up others like them and left them in their place 
to be governors of the State, then they will depart to the 
Islands of the Blest 7 and dwell there ; and the city will give 
them public memorials and sacrifices and honor them, if the 
Pythian oracle consent, 8 as demigods, and at any rate as 
blessed and divine. 

You are a statuary, Socrates, and have made our governors 
perfect in beauty. 

Yes, I said, Glaucon, and our governesses too ; for you must 
not suppose that what I have been saying applies to men only 
and not to women as far as their natures can go. 

There you are right, he said, if, as we described, they are 
to have all things in common with the men. 

Well, I said, and you would agree (would you not?) that 
what has been said about the State and the government is not 
a mere dream, and although difficult not impossible, but only 
possible in the way that has been supposed ; that is to say 
when the true philosopher kings, one or more of them, are 
born in a State, despising the honors of this present world 
which they deem mean and worthless, above all esteeming 
right and the honor that springs from right, and regarding 
justice as the greatest and most necessary of all things, whose 
ministers they are, and whose principles will be extended by 
them when they set in order their own city ? 

How will they do that? he said. 

They will begin by sending out into the country all the 
inhabitants of the city who are more than ten years old, and 
will take possession of their children, who will be unaffected 
by the habits of their parents; they will then train them in 
their own habits and laws, that is to say, in those which we 
have given them : and in this way the State and constitution 
of which we were speaking will soonest and most easily suc- 
ceed, and the nation which has such a constitution will be 
most benefited. 

7 See Apology, note 23. 8 See Rep., IV., 427 and note 9. 



THE REPUBLIC 341 

Yes, that will be the best way. And I think, Socrates, 
that you have very well described the way in which such a 
constitution might come into being. 

And have we not said enough of the State, and of the man 
who corresponds to the State, for there is no difficulty in 
seeing how we shall describe him ? 

There is no difficulty, he replied, and I say with you, 
enough. 



342 PLATO THE TEACHER 



BOOK VIII 

And so, Glaucon, we have arrived at the conclusion that 

in the perfect State wives and children are to be in common ; 

and education and the arts of war and peace are also to 

be common, and the best philosophers and the bravest 

warriors are to be their kings? * 

That, replied Glaucon, is acknowledged. 

Yes, I said ; and we have further acknowledged that the 
governors, when appointed themselves, would take their sol- 
diers and place them in houses such as we were describing ; 
nor would any one say that anything which he had was his 
own — their houses were to be common ; and as for their 
property, you remember about that ? 

Yes, I remember that no one was to have any of the ordi- 
nary possessions of mankind ; they were to be a sort of war- 
rior athletes and guardians, receiving from the other citizens, 
in lieu of annual payment, only their maintenance, and they 
were to take care of themselves and of the whole State. 

True, I said ; and now that this division of our work is 
concluded, let us find the point at which we digressed, that 
we may return into the old path. 

There is no difficulty in doing that, he replied ; you ap- 
peared then, as now, to have finished the description of the 
State ; and you said that such a State was good, and the man 
was good who answered to the State, although you had more 
excellent things to relate both of State and man. And 
you said further, that if this was the true form, then the 
others were false ; and of the false forms, you said, as I re- 
member, that there were four principal ones, 2 and that the 
defects of them, and of the individuals corresponding to them, 
were worth examining : when we had seen them all, and 
finally agreed as to who was the best and who was the worst 
of them, we might consider, as you said, whether the best 
was not also the happiest, and the worst the most miserable. 
And when I asked you what the four forms of government 

1 The proof of these three propositions occupies Books V., VI., and VII. 

2 For definition of the five forms of government see Introduction to Re- 
public, p. 184. 



THE REPUBLIC 343 

were of which you spoke, then Polemarchus and Adeimantus 
put in their word; and you began again, and have found 
your way to the point at which we have now arrived. 

Your recollection, I said, is most exact. 

Then, like a wrestler, he replied, you must put yourself 
again in the same position ; and let me ask the same ques- 
tions, and do give me the same answer which you were about 
to give me then. 

Yes, if I can, I will, I said. 

I shall particularly wish to hear what were the four constitu- 
tions of which you were speaking. 

That, I said, is easily answered : the four governments of 
which I spoke, so far as they have distinct names, are, first, 
the Cretan and Spartan, 3 which are generally applauded : 
next, there is oligarchy ; this is not equally approved, and is 
a form of government which has many evils : thirdly, de- 
mocracy, which naturally follows oligarchy, although differ- 
ent : and lastly comes tyranny, great and famous, which is 
different from them all, and is the fourth and worst disorder 
of a State. I do not know of any other constitution which 
can be said to have a distinct form, but there are lordships 
and principalities which are bought and sold, and some 
other intermediate forms of government ; and these non- 
descripts are found among barbarians oftener than among 
Hellenes. 

Yes, he replied, there are said to be many curious forms of 
government among them. 

Do you know, I said, that governments vary as the charac- 
ters of men vary, and that there must be as many of the one 
as there are of the other ? Or perhaps you suppose that States 
are made of " oak and rock," 4 and not out of the human 
natures which are in them, and which turn the scale and draw 
other things after them ? 

Nay, he said, the States are as the men are ; they do but 
grow out of human characters. 

Then if the constitutions of States are five, the disposition 
of individual minds will also be five ? 



8 Crete : a large island in the rEgean, southeast of Greece. Sparta : one 
of the most powerful states of Greece, situated at the southern extremity. 
The governments of these states Plato regards as the timocratic form- 

4 See Apology, note 38. 



344 PLATO THE TEACHER 

Certainly. 

Him who answers to aristocracy and whom we rightly call 
just and good, we have already described 5 ; and now we have 
to describe the inferior sort of natures, being the con- 
tentious and ambitious, who answer to the Spartan 
polity; also the oligarchical, democratical, and tyrannical 
man. Let us place the most just by the side of the most un- 
just, and then we shall be able to compare the relative happi- 
ness or unhappiness of pure justice and pure injustice : this 
will complete the inquiry. And then we shall know whether 
we are to pursue injustice, as Thrasymachus advises, or justice, 
as the present argument counsels. 

Certainly, he replied, that will be the way. 

Suppose, then, following our old plan, which we adopted 
as being clearer, of taking the State first and then proceed- 
ing to the individual, we begin with the government of 
honor (for I know of no name for such a government other 
than timocracy, or perhaps timarchy) ; and then we will view 
the like character in the individual ; and, after that, consider 
oligarchy and the oligarchical man ; and then again we will 
turn our attention to democracy and the democratical man ; 
and lastly, we will go and view the city of tyranny, and there 
take a look into the tyrant's soul, and try to arrive at the final 
decision. 

That way of viewing and judging of the matter will be very 
rational. 

First, then, I said, let us inquire how timocracy (or the 
government of honor) arises out of aristocracy (or the gov- 
ernment of the best). Clearly, all political changes originate 
in divisions of the actual governing power ; for a government 
which is united, however small, cannot be moved. 

That is true, he said. 

In what way, then, will our city be moved, and in what man- 
ner will the two classes of auxiliaries and rulers disagree among 
themselves or with one another ? Shall we, after the manner 
of Homer, pray the Muses to tell us "how strife was first 
kindled ? " Shall we imagine them, in tragic style, pretend- 
ing to be in earnest, playing with us as with children in solemn 
words ? 

How would they address us ? 

6 The philosopher. 



THE REPUBLIC 345 

After this manner: A city which is thus constituted can 
hardly be shaken ; but, seeing that everything which has a be- 
ginning has also an end, even this constitution will in , 
time perish and come to dissolution. 

[It is explained how guardians who are good and wise may 
have children who possess none of the qualities which a 
guardian should have. So, though the guardians appoint the 
best of the youth to be their successors,] 

still they will be unworthy to hold their father's places, and 
when they come into power as guardians, they will soon be 
found to fail in taking care of us, the Muses, first by undervalu- 
ing music, and secondly gymnastic ; and hence our young men 
will be less cultivated. In the succeeding generation rulers 
will be appointed who have none of the qualities of guardians. 
In order to put to the test the metal of your different races, 
which, like Hesiod's, are of gold, and silver, and brass, 
and iron, 6 iron will be mingled with silver, and brass 
with gold, and hence there will arise inequality and irregular- 
ity, which always and in all places are causes of enmity and 
war. Such is the origin of strife, wherever arising ; and this 
is the answer of the Muses to us. 

Yes, he said, and we may assume that they answer truly. 

Why, yes, I said, of course they answer truly : the Muses 
cannot do otherwise. 

And what do the Muses say next ? 

When strife arose, then the two races were drawn different 
ways : the iron and brass fell to acquiring money and land and 
houses and gold and silver ; but the gold and silver races, hav- 
ing the true riches in their own nature, inclined towards virtue 
and the ancient order of things. There was a battle between 
them, and at last they agreed to assign their land and houses 
to the possession of individuals ; and they enslaved their friends 
and maintainers, whom they had formerly protected in the con- 
dition of freemen, and made of them subjects and servants ; 
while they themselves were occupied with war and the watch- 
ing of them. 

That, he replied, will probably be the origin of the change. 

6 Compare myth, close of Book III. 



346 PLATO THE TEACHER 

And the new government which thus arises will be of a form 
intermediate between oligarchy and aristocracy. 

Very true. 

And now, after the change has been made, what will be their 
way of life ? Clearly, the new State, being in a mean between 
oligarchy and the perfect State, will partly follow one and 
partly the other, and will also have some peculiarities. 

That is true, he said. 

In the honor given to rulers, in the abstinence of the war- 
rior class from agriculture, handicrafts, and other trades, in 
the institution of common meals, attention to gymnastics and 
military training — in all these the citizen will resemble the 
perfect State. 

True. 

But in the fear of admitting philosophers to power, because 
their philosophy is no longer simple and earnest, but made up 
of mixed elements ; and in turning from them to passionate 

£ and simpler characters, who are by nature fitted for war 
rather than peace ; and in the value which they set upon 
military stratagems and contrivances, and in their everlasting 
wars — this State will be for the most part peculiar. 

Yes. 

Yes, I said ; and men of this stamp will be covetous of 
money, like those who live in oligarchies; they will have a 
fierce secret longing after gold and silver, which they will 
hoard in dark places, having magazines and treasures of their 
own for the deposit and concealment of them ; also castles 
which are just nests for their eggs, and in which they will spend 
large sums on their wives, or on any others whom they please. 

That is most true, he said. 

And they are miserly because they have no means of openly 
acquiring the money which they prize ; they will spend that 
which is another man's in their lust ; stealing their pleasures 
and running away like children from the law, their father : 
they have been schooled not by gentle influences but by force ; 
for they have no thought of the true muse of reason and phi- 
losophy, and gymnastic is preferred by them to music. 

Undoubtedly, he said, the form of government which you 
describe is a mixture of good and evil. 

Why, there is a mixture, I said ; but one thing, and one 
thing only, is predominantly seen, — the spirit of contention and 



THE REPUBLIC 347 

ambition; and these are due to the prevalence of the passion- 
ate or spirited element. 7 

Assuredly, he said. 

Such is the origin and such the character of this State, of 
which the outline only has been given ; the more perfect exe- 
cution of the sketch was not required, because the outline is 
enough to show the type of the most perfectly just and unjust; 
and to go through all the States and all the characters of men, 
leaving none of them out, would be an interminable labor. 

Very true, he replied. 

Who answers to this form of government — how did he 
come into being, and what is he like ? 

I think, said Adeimantus, that in the spirit of contention 
which characterizes him, he is not unlike our friend Glaucon. 

Perhaps, I said, he may be like him in that one point ; but 
there are other respects in which he is very different. 

In what respects ? 

He should have more of self-assertion and be somewhat less 
favored by the Muses, yet not other than a lover of the Muses ; 
and he should be a good listener, but not a speaker. A man of 
this sort may be imagined to be rough with slaves, not 
like the educated man, who is too proud for that ; and he 
will also be courteous to freemen, and remarkably obedient to 
authority ; he is a lover of power and a lover of honor ; claim- 
ing to be a ruler, not because he is a speaker, or on any ground 
of that sort, but because he is a soldier, and, as a soldier, has 
performed feats of arms : he is also a lover of gymnastic exer- 
cises and of the chase. 

Yes, he said, that is the character of timocracy. 

Such an one will despise riches only when he is young; 
but as he gets older he will be more and more attracted to 
them, because he has a piece of the avaricious nature in him, 
and is not single-minded towards virtue, having lost his best 
guardian. 

Who is that ? said Adeimantus. 

Philosophy, I said, tempered with music, 8 who comes and 

7 See Book IV., 439 and following. 

6 This sentence embraces Plato's entire Scheme of education. In early 
life the soul should be compassed by influences in art form, which have been 
determined in accordance with absolute truth by the philosopher. Later, 
the soul which is properly educated through such influences should rise to 
clear knowledge of the absolute truth by means of philosophic reflection. 



34** PLATO THE TEACHER 

takes up her abode in a man through life, and is the only sa- 
viour of his virtue. 

Good, he said. 

Such, I said, is the timocratical youth, and he is like the 
timocratical State. 

Exactly. 

His origin is as follows : He is often the son of a brave father, 
who dwells in an ill-governed city, the honors and offices of 
which he declines, and will not go to law, but is ready to 
waive his rights in order that he may escape trouble. 

And how does the son come into being ? 

The character of the son begins to develop when he hears 
his mother grumbling at her husband for not having a seat in 
the government, the consequence of which is that she loses 
precedence among other women. Further, when she sees her 
husband not very eager about money, and instead of battling 
and railing in the law courts or assembly, taking everything 
of that sort quietly ; and when she observes that his thoughts 
always centre in himself, while he treats her with very con- 
siderable indifference, she is annoyed at all this, and says to 
her son that his father is only half a man and far too easy- 
going : not to mention other similar complaints which women 
love to utter. 

Yes, said Adeimantus, they give us plenty of them, and in 
their own characteristic style. 

And you know, I said, that the old servants of the family, 
who are supposed to be attached, talk privately in the same 
strain to the sons ; and if they see any one who owes money 
to their father, or is wronging him in any way, and he fails to 
prosecute them, they tell the youth that when he grows up he 
must retaliate upon his injurers, and be more of a man 
than his father. He has only to walk abroad and he 
hears and sees the same sort of thing : those who do their own 
business in the city are called simple, and held in no esteem, 
while the busybodies are honored and applauded. The result 
is that the young man, hearing and seeing all these things, — 
hearing, too, the words of his father, and having a nearer 
view of his way of life, and making comparisons of him and 
others, — is drawn opposite ways : while his father is watering 
and nourishing the rational principle in his soul, the others 
are encouraging the passionate and appetitive ; and he being 



THE REPUBLIC 349 

not originally of a bad nature, but having kept bad company, 
is brought by their joint influence to a middle point, and 
gives up the kingdom which is within him to the middle prin- 
ciple of contentiousness and passion, 9 and becomes proud and 
ambitious. 

You seem to me to have described his origin perfectly. 

Then we have now, I said, the second form of government 
and the second type of character ? 

We have. 

Next, let us look at another man who, as yEschylus says, is 
set over against another State ; or rather, as our plan requires, 
begin with the State. 

By all means. 

I believe that oligarchy follows next in order. 

And what manner of government do you term oligarchy ? 

A government resting on a valuation of property, in which 
the rich have power and the poor are deprived of power. 

I understand, he replied. 

Shall I describe how the change from timocracy to oligarchy 
arises ? 

Yes. 

Well, I said, no eyes are required in order to see how that 
comes about. 

How? 

That private hoard of theirs is the source of the evil ; the 
accumulation of gold ruins timocracy : they invent some ex- 
travagance which is in open contravention of the law, but 
neither they nor their wives care about this. 

That might be expected. 

And then one seeing another prepares to rival him, and thus 
the whole body of the citizens acquires a similar character. 

Likely enough. 

After that they get on in trade, and the more they think of 
this the less they think of virtue; for when riches and virtue 
are placed together in the scales of the balance, the one always 
rises as the other falls. 

True. 

And in proportion as riches and rich men are honored 
in the State, virtue and the virtuous are dishonored. 

Clearly. 

9 See Book IV., 435-442. 



350 PLATO THE TEACHER 

And what is honored is cultivated, and that which has no 
honor is neglected. 

That is the case. 

And so at last, instead of loving contention and glory, men 
become lovers of trade and money, and they honor and rever- 
ence the rich man, and make a ruler of him, and dishonor the 
poor man. 

Certainly. 

Then they proceed to make a law which fixes a sum of 
money as the qualification of citizenship ; the money fixed is 
more or less as the oligarchy is more or less exclusive; and 
they forbid any one whose property is below the amount fixed 
to share in the government : these changes in the constitution 
they effect by force of arms, if intimidation has not already 
done the work. 

Very true. 

And this, speaking generally, is the way in which oligarchy 
is established. 

Yes, he said ; but what are the characteristics of this form 
of government, and what are the supposed defects ? 

First of all, I said, consider the nature of the qualification. 
Just think what would happen if the pilots were to be chosen 
according to their property, and a poor man refused permission 
to steer, even though he were a better pilot? 

You mean that they would shipwreck ? 

Yes ; and is not this true of the government of anything ? 

Yes, that is what I should imagine. 

And would you say this of a city also, or do you make an 
exception in favor of a city? 

Nay, he said, the case of a city is still stronger, in propor- 
tion as the rule of a city is greater and more difficult. 

This, then, will be the first great defect of oligarchy ? 

Clearly. 

And here is another defect which is quite as bad. 

What defect ? 

The inevitable division ; such a State is not one, but two 
States, the one of poor men, the other of rich men, who are 
living on the same spot and ever conspiring against one an- 
other. 

Yes, that is equally bad. 

Another discreditable feature is the impossibility of carrying 



THE REPUBLIC 351 

on any war, because if they arm and use the multitude they 
are more afraid of them than of the enemy : that is unavoida- 
ble. If they do not use them, then, in the hour of battle, 
they appear oligarchs indeed, few to fight and few to rule : 
and at the same time their fondness for money makes them 
unwilling to pay taxes. 

That is not creditable. 

And what do you say of our former charge that, under such 
a constitution, the same persons are busy at many things, 
and are husbandmen, tradesmen, warriors, all in one? 
Does that seem well ? 

Anything but well. 

There is another evil which is, perhaps, the greatest of all, 
and to which this State first begins to be liable. 

What is the evil? 

The evil is that a man may sell all that he has, and another 
may possess his property, yet after the sale he may dwell in the 
city of which he is no longer a part, being neither trader, nor 
artisan, nor horseman, nor hoplite, 10 but only poor and helpless. 

Yes, that begins in this State. 

An oligarchy offers no security against this ; for oligarchies 
have both the extremes of great wealth- and utter poverty. 

True. 

But think again : what sort of a gentleman is this ? In his 
wealthy days, while he was spending his money, was he a whit 
more good to the State for the purposes of which we were just 
now speaking? Or did he only seem to be a member of the 
ruling body, being really no more a ruler than he was a sub- 
ject, but just a spendthrift? 

As you say, he seemed to be a ruler, but was only a spend- 
thrift. 

May we not say that this is the drone in the house who is 
like the drone in the honeycomb, and that the one is the 
plague of the city as the other is of the hive? 

Just so, Socrates. 

And God has made the flying drones, Adeimantus, all with- 
out stings, whereas of the walking drones he has made some 
without stings and others with dreadful stings : of the stingless 
class are those who in their old age end by dying paupers ; of 
the stingers come all the criminal class, as they are termed. 
10 Heavy-armed soldier. 



352 PLATO THE TEACHER 

Most true, he said. 

Clearly then, whenever you see paupers in a State, some- 
where in that neighborhood there are hidden away thieves and 
cut purses, and robbers of temples, and other malefactors. 

That is clear. 

Well, I said, and in oligarchical States do you not find pau- 
pers? 

Yes, he said ; nearly everybody is a pauper who is not a ruler. 

And may we be so bold as to suppose that there are also 
many criminals to be found in them, rogues who have stings, 
and whom the authorities are careful to restrain by force? 

Certainly, we may be so bold. 

The existence of such persons is to be attributed to want 
of education, ill-training, and an evil constitution of the State ? 

True. 

Such, then, is the form and such are the evils of oligarchy ; 
and there may be other evils. 

That is pretty much the truth. 

Then now oligarchy, or the form of government in which 
the rulers are elected for their wealth, may be regarded 
as dismissed. Let us next proceed to consider the nat- 
ure and origin of the individual who answers to the State. 

Yes, by all means. 

Is not this the manner of the change from the timocratical to 
the oligarchical? Suppose the representative of timocracy to 
have a son : at first he begins by emulating his father and 
walking in his footsteps, but presently he sees him strike all in 
a moment on a sunken reef, which is the State, and he and all 
that he has are lost ; he may have been a general or some other 
high officer who is brought to trial under a prejudice raised by 
informers, and either put to death, or exiled, or deprived of 
the privileges of a citizen, and all his property taken from him. 

That is very likely to happen. 

And the son has seen and known all this — he is a ruined 
man, and his fear has taught him to knock ambition and pas- 
sion headforemost from his bosom's throne : humbled by pov- 
erty he takes to money-making, and by mean and small sav- 
ings and doings gets a fortune together. Is not this man 
likely to seat the concupiscent and covetous elements on that 
vacant throne ? They will play the great king within him, 
and he will array them with tiara and collar and scimitar. 



THE REPUBLIC 353 

Likely ! Yes, he replied. 

And when he has made the reasoning and passionate facul- 
ties sit on the ground obediently on either side, and taught 
them to know their place, he compels the one to think only 
of the method by which lesser sums may be converted into 
larger ones, and schools the other into the worship and admi- 
ration of riches and rich men ; no ambition will he tolerate 
except the ambition of getting rich and the means which 
lead to this. 

Of all conversions, he said, there is none so speedy or so 
sure as when the ambitious youth changes into the avaricious 
one. 

And the avaricious, I said, is the oligarchical youth? 

Yes, he said ; at any rate the individual out of whom he 
came is like the State out of which oligarchy came. 

Let us then consider whether there is any likeness between 
them. 

Very good. 

First, then, they resemble one another in the value 
which they set upon wealth ? 

Certainly. 

Also in their penurious, laborious character; the individual 
only satisfies his necessary appetites, and confines his expendi- 
ture to them ; his other desires he subdues, under the idea 
that there is no use in them ? 

True. 

He is a shabby fellow, I said, who saves something out of 
everything and makes a purse for himself ; and this is the sort 
of man whom the vulgar applaud. Is he not like the State 
which he represents ? 

That would be my view of him, he replied ; at any rate, 
money is highly valued by him as well as by the State. 

Why, he is not a man of cultivation, I said. 

I imagine not, he said ; had he been educated he would 
never have made a blind god director of his chorus, or given 
him chief honor. 11 

Excellent ! I said. Yet consider this : Will there not be 

11 Plutus, god of wealth (identified with Hades or Pluto, god of the lower 
world) : according to one myth blinded by Zeus in order that he might dis- 
tribute his wealth impartially. Jowett paraphrases the passage thus : " He 
would never have allowed the blind god of riches to lead the dance within 
him." 

23 






354 PLATO THE TEACHER 

found in him, owing to his want of cultivation, dronelike de- 
sires as of pauper and rogue, which are forcibly kept down by 
his general habit of life? 

True. 

Do you know where you will have to look if you want to 
discover his rogueries ? 

Where must I look ? 

Let him be the guardian of an orphan, or have some other 
great opportunity of acting dishonestly, and then he will 
show that, in sustaining the reputation of uprightness which 
attaches to him in his dealings generally, he coerces his other 
bad passions by an effort of virtue ; not that he convinces 
them of evil, or exerts over them the gentle influence of reason, 
but he acts upon them by necessity and fear, and because he 
trembles for his possessions. 

That is clear. 

Yes, indeed, I said, my dear friend, you will find that the 
natural desires of the drone commonly exist in him all the same, 
whenever he has the spending of another's goods. 

No mistake about that. 

This sort of man, then, will be at war with himself; he 
will be two men, and not one ; but, in general, his better de- 
sires will be found to prevail over his inferior ones. 

True. 

For these reasons such an one will be more decent than 
many are ; yet the true virtue of a unanimous and harmonious 
soul will be far out of his reach. 

That I believe. 

And surely, in his private capacity, the miser will be an 
ignoble competitor in a State for any prize of victory, or 
other object of honorable ambition ; he is too much 
afraid of awakening his expensive appetites and inviting 
them to help and join in the struggle ; in true oligarchical 
fashion he fights with a small part only of his resources, and 
the result commonly is that he loses the prize and saves his 
money. 

Very true. 

Can we any longer doubt, then, that the miser and money- 
maker answers to the oligarchical State ? 

Certainly not. 

Next comes democracy and the democratical man : the 



THE REPUBLIC 355 

origin and nature of them we have still to learn, that we in ay- 
compare the individual and the State, and so pronounce upon 
them. 

That, he said, is our method. 

Well, I said, is not this the way in which the change from 
oligarchy into democracy arises ? — they are insatiable of 
wealth which they propose to themselves as their end ; and 
the rulers, who are aware that their own power rests upon 
property, refuse to curtail by law the extravagance of the 
spendthrift youth because they will gain by their ruin ; they 
lend them money, and buy them out of their land, and grow 
in wealth and honor ? 

Exactly. . 

There can be no doubt that in a State you cannot have in 
the citizens the love of wealth and the spirit of moderation ; 
one or the other will have to be disregarded. 

That is tolerably clear. 

And in oligarchical States, from carelessness and the indul- 
gence of their extravagance, men of good family have often 
been reduced to beggary ? 

Yes, often. 

And still they remain in the city ; there they are, and they 
have stings and arms, and some of them owe money, some are 
no longer citizens 12 : a third class are in both predicaments, 
and they hate and conspire against those who have got their 
property, and anybody else, and are eager for revolution. 

That is true. 

On the other hand, the men of business, stooping as they 
walk, and pretending never so much as to see those whom they 
have already ruined, insert the sting — that is, their money — 
into anybody else who is not on his guard against them, and 
recover the parent or principal sum many times over multi- 
plied into a family of children : this is the way in which they 
make drone and pauper to abound in the State. 

Yes, he said, there are plenty of them, that is cer- , 
tain. 55 

The evil is like a fire which is blazing up, and which they 
will not extinguish either by placing restriction on the dis- 
position of property or — 

What is the other solution of the difficulty ? 

12 Literally some are dishonored, i.e. , officially deprived of citizenship. 



356 PLATO THE TEACHER 

One which is about as good, and has the advantage of com- 
pelling the citizens to look to their characters : Let there be 
an ordinance that every one shall enter into voluntary con- 
tracts at his own risk, and there will be less of this scandalous 
money-making, and the evils of which we were speaking will 
be greatly lessened in the State. 

Yes, they will be greatly lessened. 

At present the governors, induced by the motives which I 
have named, treat their subjects badly ; while they and their 
adherents, especially the young men of the governing class, 
lead a life of luxury and idleness both of body and mind ; 
they do nothing, and are incapable of holding out against 
pleasure and pain. 

Very true. 

They care only for making money, and are as indifferent 
as the pauper to the cultivation of virtue. 

Yes, quite indifferent. 

Now in this state of things the rulers and their subjects 
come in one another's way, whether on a journey or some 
other occasion of meeting, or on a pilgrimage or march as 
fellow-soldiers or fellow-sailors ; they observe each other in 
the moment of danger (and where danger is there is no fear 
that the poor will be despised by the rich), and very likely 
the wiry, sunburnt poor man may be placed in battle at the 
side of a wealthy one who has never spoilt his complexion, 
and has plenty of superfluous flesh — when he sees such an one 
puffing and at his wits' -end, can he avoid drawing the con- 
clusion that men of this sort are only rich because no one has 
the courage to despoil them ? And when they meet in private 
will they not be saying to one another that our " warriors are 
nothing worth ? " 

Yes, he said, I am quite aware that this is their way of talking. 

And, as where a body is weak the addition of a touch from 
without may bring on illness, and sometimes even when there 
is no external provocation a commotion may arise within, in 
the same way where there is weakness in the State there is also 
likely to be illness, the occasion of which may be very slight, 
one party introducing their democratical, the other their 
oligarchical allies, and the State may fall sick, and be 
at war with herself and in a state of distraction, even when 
there is no external cause. 



THE REPUBLIC 357 

Yes, surely. 

And then democracy comes into being after the poor have 
conquered their opponents, slaughtering some and banishing 
some, while to the remainder they give an equal share of 
freedom and power ; and this is the form of government in 
which the magistrates are commonly elected by lot. 13 

Yes, he said, that is the nature of democracy, whether es- 
tablished by arms or by fear, and the withdrawal of the 
opposite party. 

And now what is their manner of life, and what sort of a 
government is this ? For as the government is, such will be 
the man. 

Clearly, he said. 

In the first place, are they not free ? and the city is full of 
freedom and frankness — there a man may do as he likes. 

Yes, that is often said, he replied. 

And where this freedom is, there every man is clearly able to 
order his life as he pleases? 

Clearly. 

Then in this kind of State there will be the greatest variety 
of human natures ? 

There will. 

This, then, is likely to be the fairest of States, and may be 
compared to an embroidered robe which is spangled with 
flowers ; and being in like manner spangled with the manners 
and characters of mankind will appear to be the fairest of them 
all. And just as women and children think variety charm- 
ing, so there are many men who will deem this the fairest of 
States. 

Yes. 

Yes, I said, my noble sir, and a good place in which to go 
and look for a government. 

Why ? 

Because of the liberty which reigns there: they have a com- 
plete assortment of constitutions ; and if a man has a mind to 
establish a State, as we are doing, he must go to a democracy 
as he would go to a bazaar, where they sell them, and pick out 
one that suits him ; then, when he has made his choice, he may 
lay the foundation of his State. 

He will be sure, he said, to have patterns enough. 

13 In Athens at that time many offices were assigned by lot. 



358 PLATO THE TEACHER 

And there being no necessity, I said, for you to govern in 
this State, even if you have the capacity, or to be governed 
unless you like, or to go to war when the others go to war, or 
to be at peace when others are at peace, unless you are dis- 
posed — there being no necessity also because some law forbids 
you to hold office or be a dicast, 14 that you should not hold 

8 office or be a dicast, if you have a mind yourself — is not 
that a way of life which for the moment is supremely 
delightful ? 

Yes, for the moment, that is true. 

And is not the calmness of those against whom sentence has 
been given often quite charming? Under a government of 
this sort there are men who, when they have been condemned 
to death or exile, stay where they are and walk about the 
world ; the gentleman parades like a hero, as though nobody 
saw or cared. 

Yes, he replied, I have often remarked that. 

Yes, I said ; and the forgiving spirit of democracy, and the 
"don't care" about trifles, and the disregard which she shows 
of all the fine principles which we were solemnly affirming at 
the foundation of the city — as when we said that, except in 
the case of some rare natures, never will there be a good man 
who from his early youth has not made things of beauty an 
amusement and also a study — how grandly does she trample 
all that under foot, never giving a thought to the pursuits 
which make a statesman, and is satisfied to honor a man who 
says that he is the people's friend. 

Yes, he said, that is glorious. 

These and other kindred characteristics are proper to democ- 
racy, which is a charming form of government, full of variety 
and diversity, and dispensing equality to equals and unequals 
alike. 

That, he said, is sufficiently well-known. 

Consider now, I said, what manner of man the individual 
is, or rather consider, as in the case of the State, how he is 
created. 

Very good, he said. 

Is not this the way, — he is the son of the miserly and oli- 
garchical father who has trained him in his own habits ? 

Exactly. 
14 An Athenian judicial officer corresponding somewhat to our juryman. 



THE REPUBLIC 359 

And, like his father, he keeps under the pleasures which are 
of the spending and not of the getting sort, being those which 
are called by us unnecessary. The argument will be clearer if 
we here distinguish which are the necessary and which are the 
unnecessary pleasures. 

I should like to do that. 

Necessary pleasures are those of which we cannot get rid, 
and which benefit us when they are satisfied ; both kinds are 
rightly called necessary, because our nature is necessarily at- 
tracted to them. 

True. 

And therefore we are not wrong in calling them 
necessary ? 

We are not. 

Again, as to the desires which a man may get rid of, if he 
makes that his object when young, the presence of which, 
moreover, does no good, and in some cases the reverse of 
good, — shall we not be right in saying that all these are un- 
necessary ? 

Yes, certainly. 

Suppose we select an example of either kind, in order that 
we may have a general notion of them ? 

Very good. 

Will not the desire of eating, that is, of simple food and 
condiments, as far as they are required for health and strength, 
be of the necessary class ? 

That is what I should suppose. 

The pleasure of eating is necessary in two ways, — first as 
beneficial, and also as needed for the support of life ? 

Yes. 

But the condiments are only necessary as being good for 
health ? 

Certainly. 

And the desire which goes beyond this of viands of a less 
simple kind, which might generally be got rid of, if controlled 
and trained in youth, and is hurtful to the body and hurtful 
to the soul in the pursuit of wisdom and virtue, may be 
rightly called unnecessary ? 

Very right. 

May we not say that these spend and the other desires make 
money, because they are of use with a view to production ? 



360 PLATO THE TEACHER 

Certainly. 

And of the pleasures of love, and all other pleasures, the 
same holds good? 

True. 

And the drone of which we were speaking meant him who 
was surfeited in pleasures and desires of this sort, and was 
governed by the unnecessary desires, whereas he who was 
governed by the necessary was miserly and oligarchical ? 

Very true, he said. 

Again, I said, let us see how the democratical man grows 
out of the oligarchical : the following, as I suspect, is com- 
monly the process. 

What? 

When a young man who has been brought up as we were 
just now describing, in a vulgar and miserly way, has tasted 
drones' honey and has come to associate with fierce and cun- 
ning natures who are able to provide for him all sorts of re- 
finements and varieties of pleasure, — then, as you may imagine, 
the change will begin of the oligarchical principle within him 
into the democratical. 

That, he said, is the inevitable result. 

And as in the city like was helping like, and the change 
was effected by an alliance from without assisting one division 
of the citizens, so the young man also changes by a class of de- 
sires from without assisting a class of those within, that which 
is akin and alike again helping that which is akin and alike. 

Certainly. 

And if there be any ally which aids the oligarchical side, 
whether the influence of friends or kindred, advising or 
rebuking him, then there arises a faction and an opposite 
faction, and the result is a civil war. 

Certainly. 

And there are times when the democratical principle gives 
way to the oligarchical, and some of his desires die, and oth- 
ers are banished ; a spirit of reverence enters into the young 
man's soul and order is restored. 

Yes, he said, that sometimes happens. 

And then, again, after the old desires have been driven out 
fresh ones spring up, which are like them ; they have never 
known a parent's discipline, and this makes them fierce and 
numerous. 



THE REPUBLIC 36 1 

Yes, he said, that often occurs. 

They draw him to his old associates, and holding secret 
intercourse with him, breed and muster in him ? 15 

Very true. 

At length they seize upon the citadel of the young man's 
soul, which they perceive to be void of all fair accomplish- 
ments and pursuits and of every true word, which are the best 
guardians and sentinels in the minds of men dear to the gods. 

None better. 

False and boastful words and conceits grow up instead of 
them, and take the same position in him ? 

Yes, he said ; indeed they do. 

And so the young man returns into the country of the lotus- 
eaters, 16 and takes up his abode there in the face of all men, 
and if any help be sent by his friends to the oligarchical part 
of him, the vain conceits shut the gate of the king's fastness ; 
they will not allow the new ally to pass. And if ambassadors, 
venerable for their age, come and parley, they refuse to listen 
to them ; there is a battle and they win : then modesty, which 
they call silliness, is ignominiously thrust into exile by them. 
They affirm temperance to be unmanliness, and her also they 
contemptuously eject ; and they pretend that moderation and 
orderly expenditure are vulgarity and meanness; and, with a 
company of vain appetites at their heels, they drive them be- 
yond the border. 

Yes, with right good will. 

And when they have made a sweep of the soul of him who 
is now in their power, and is being initiated by them in great 

15 << When the unclean spirit is gone out of a man, he walketh through dry- 
places, seeking rest ; and finding none, he saith, I will return unto my house 
whence I came out And when he cometh, he findeth it swept and gar- 
nished. Then goeth he and taketh to him seven other spirits more wicked 
than himself; and they enter in and dwell there ; and the last state of that 
man is worse than the first." — Luke xi. 24-26. 

16 According to Homeric legend, Odysseus in his wanderings came to a 
land whose people ate only the fruit and blossom of a plant called the lotus. 
Those who tasted this food wished to remain there forever and lost all desire 
for home. 

" Whoever tasted once of that sweet food 
Wished not to see his native country more, 
Nor give his friends the knowledge of his fate. 
And then my messengers desired to dwell 
Among the Lotus-eaters, and to feed 
Upon the lotus, never to return." 

—Bryant's Homer. 
See Tennyson's " Lotus Eaters." 



362 PLATO THE TEACHER 

mysteries, 17 the next thing is to bring back to their house in- 
solence and anarchy and waste and impudence in bright array, 
having garlands on their heads, with a great company, while 
they hymn their praises and call them by sweet names ; inso- 
, lence they term breeding, and anarchy liberty, and 
5 waste magnificence, and impudence courage. In this 
way the young man passes out of his original nature, which 
was trained in the school of necessity, into the freedom and 
libertinism of useless and unnecessary pleasures. 

Yes, he said, that is obviously the way. 

When the change has been made he lives on, spending his 
money and labor and time on unnecessary pleasures quite as 
much as on necessary ones ; but if he be fortunate, and is 
not too much intoxicated with passion, when he gets older, 
after the tumult of freedom has mostly passed away — suppos- 
ing that he then re-admits into the city some part of the ex- 
iled virtues, and does not wholly give himself up to their 
successors — in that case he balances his pleasures and lives in 
a sort of equilibrium, putting the government of himself into 
the hands of the one that offers and wins the turn ; and when 
he has had enough of that, then into the hands of another, 
and is very impartial in his encouragement of them all. 

Very true, he said. 

Neither does he receive or admit into the fortress any true 
word of advice ; if any one says to him that some pleasures 
are the satisfactions of good and noble desires, and others of 
evil desires, and that he ought to use and honor some and 
curtail and reduce others — whenever this is repeated to him 
he shakes his head and says that they are all alike, and that 
one is as honorable as another. 

Why, yes, he said ; that is the sort of man, and that is his 
way of behaving. 

Yes, I said, he lives through the day indulging the appetite 
of the hour ; and sometimes he is lapped in drink and strains 
of the flute ; then he is for total abstinence, and tries to get 
thin ; then, again, he is at gymnastics ; sometimes idling and 
neglecting everything, then once more living the life of a 
philosopher ; often he is at politics, and starts to his feet and 
says and does anything that may turn up ; and, if he is emu- 
lous of any one who is a warrior, off he is in that direction, or 
» In allusion to the religious mysteries. See Symposium, note 32. 



THE REPUBLIC 363 

of men of business, once more in that. His life has neither 
order nor law ; and this is the way of him — this he terms joy 
and freedom and happiness. 

Yes, he said, there is liberty, equality, and fraternity enough 
in him. 

Yes, I said ; he may be described as — 

" A man so various that he seems to be 
Not one, but all mankind's epitome." 

He is, like the State, a rare being, and has many forms. And 
many a man and many a woman will emulate him, and many 
a constitution and many an example of life is contained in 
him. 

That is true. 

Let him then be set over against democracy; he may , 
truly be called the democratic man. 

Let that be his place, he said. 

And now comes the most beautiful of all, man and State 
alike, tyranny and the tyrant ; these we have to consider. 

Quite true, he said. 

Say then, my friend, how does tyranny arise — out of democ- 
racy of course ? 

Clearly. 

And does not tyranny spring from democracy in the same 
way as democracy from oligarchy — I mean, after a sort ? 

How is that ? 

The good which oligarchy proposed was excess of wealth ; 
in this oligarchy originated. Am I not right ? 

Yes. 

And the insatiable desire of wealth, and the neglect of all 
other things for the sake of money -getting, was also the ruin 
of oligarchy? 

True. 

And democracy has a notion of good, the insatiable desire 
of which also brought her to an end ? 

What notion of good ? 

Freedom, I replied ; that, as people often say, is best in a 
democracy — and, therefore, in a democracy only will the 
freedom of nature deign to dwell. 

Why, said he, that is very often said. 

And, I was going to observe, that the insatiable desire of 



364 PLATO THE TEACHER 

this and the neglect of other things, introduces the change in 
democracy, which occasions a demand for tyranny. 

How is that ? 

When a democracy which is thirsting for freedom has evil 
cup-bearers presiding over the feast, and has drunk too deeply 
of the strong wine of freedom, then, unless her rulers are very 
amenable and give a plentiful draught, she calls them to 
account and punishes them, and says that they are cursed oli- 
garchs. 

Yes, he replied, that is a very common thing. 

Yes, I said ; and loyal citizens are insulted by her as lovers 
of slavery and men of naught ; she would have subjects who 
are like rulers, and rulers who are like subjects : these are men 
after her own heart, whom she praises and honors both in 
private and public. Now, in such a State, can liberty have 
any limit ? 

Certainly not. 

Nay, I said, the anarchy grows and finds a way into pri- 
vate houses, and ends by getting among the animals and in- 
fecting them. 

How do you mean ? 

I mean that the father gets accustomed to descend to the 

level of his sons and to fear them, and the son to be on a level 

with his father, he having no shame or fear of either of his 

parents; and this is his freedom, and the metic 18 is equal 

, with the citizen and the citizen with the metic, and the 

stranger on a level with either. 

Yes, he said, that is true. 

That is true, I said ; and, moreover, little things of this 
sort happen : the master fears and natters his scholars, and the 
scholars despise their masters and tutors ; and, in general, 
young and old are alike, and the young man is on a level with 
the old, and is ready to compete with him in word or deed ; 
and old men condescend to the young, and are full of pleas- 
antry and gayety ; they do not like to be thought morose and 
authoritative, and therefore they imitate the young. 

Quite true, he said. 

The last extreme of popular liberty is when the slave bought 
with money, whether male or female, is just as free as his or 

i 8 Metic (me'tfc) : In Athens, a resident alien who paid a certain tax but 
had no civic rights. (L. and S.) 



THE REPUBLIC 365 

her purchaser : nor must I forget to tell of the liberty and 
equality of the two sexes in relation to each other. 

Why not. he said, as jEschylus remarks, utter the word 
which rises to our lips? 

Yes. I replied : that is what I am now doing ; and I must 
say that no one who does not know would believe, how much 
greater is the liberty which animals who are under the domin- 
ion of men have in a democracy than in any other State : for 
truly, the she-dogs, as the proverb says, are as good as their 
she-mistresses , and the horses and asses come to have a way 
of marching along with all the rights and dignities of free- 
men ; and they will run at anybody whom they meet in the 
street if he does not get out of their way : and all things are 
just ready to burst with liberty. 

You tell me, he said, my own dream ; for that which you 
describe often happens to me when I am taking a country 
walk. 

And above all, I said, and as the result of all, see how sen- 
sitive the citizens become ; they chafe impatiently at the least 
touch of authority, and at length, as you know, they cease to 
care even for the laws, written or unwritten ; for they will 
have no one over them. 

Yes, he said, that I know quite well. 

And this, my friend, I said, is the fair and glorious begin- 
ning out of which springs tyranny. 

Glorious indeed, he said. But what is the next step? 

The ruin of oligarchy is the ruin of democracy : the same 
disorder intensified by liberty dominates over democracy, the 
truth being that the excessive increase of anything often causes 
a reaction in the opposite direction ; and this is the , 
case not only in the seasons and in vegetable and ani- 3 
mal forms, but above all in forms of government. 

That is very likely. 

Tor excess of liberty, whether in States or individuals, 
seems only to pass into excess of slavery. 

Yes, that is the natural order. 

Then tyranny naturally arises out of democracy, and the 
most aggravated form of tyranny and slavery out of the most 
extreme form of liberty. 

Yes, he said, there is reason in all that. 

That, however, was not, as I believe, your question, — you 



366 PLATO THE TEACHER 

rather desired to know what is that disorder which is gener- 
ated alike in oligarchy and democracy, and enslaves both ? 

True, he replied. 

Well, I said, I meant to refer to the class of idle spend- 
thrifts, of whom the more courageous are the leaders and the 
more timid the followers, the same whom we were comparing 
to drones, some stingless, and others having stings. 

A very just comparison, he said. 

These two classes are the plagues of every city in which 
they are generated, being what phlegm and bile are to the 
body. And the good physician and lawgiver of the State 
ought, like the wise bee-master, to keep them at a distance 
and prevent, if possible, their ever coming in ; and if they 
have anyhow found a way in, then he should have them and 
their cells cut out as speedily as possible. 

Yes, indeed, he said, that he should. 

Then, in order that we may see more clearly what we are 
doing, let us imagine democracy to be divided into three 
classes, which also exist in fact ; for liberty creates drones 
quite as much in the democratic as in the oligarchical 
State. 

That is true. 

But in the democracy they are more intensified. 

How is that ? 

The reason is, that in the oligarchical State, as they are dis- 
qualified and driven from power, they cannot train or gather 
strength ; whereas in a democracy they are almost the entire 
ruling power, and the keener sort speak and act, while the rest 
sit buzzing about the bema 19 and will not suffer a word to be 
said on the other side ; and hence there is hardly anything in 
these States which is not their doing. 

Very true, he said. 

Then there is another class which is divided from the mul- 
titude. 

What is that ? 

The richest class, which in a nation of traders is generally 
the most orderly. 

That may be assumed. 

They are the most squeezable persons and yield the largest 
amount of honey to the drones. 

19 The platform from which a speaker addressed an assembly. 



THE REPUBLIC 367 

Why, he said, there is little to be squeezed out of people 
who have little. 

And this is called the wealthy class, and the drones feed 
upon them. , 

That is pretty much the case, he said. 

There is also a third class, consisting of working men, who 
are not politicians, and have little to live upon. And this, when 
assembled, is the largest and most powerful class in a democracy. 

Why, that is true, he said ; but then the multitude is seldom 
willing to meet unless they get a little honey. 

And do they not share ? I said. Do not their leaders take the 
estates of the rich, and give to the people as much of them as 
they can, consistently with keeping the greater part themselves ? 

Why, yes, he said, to that extent the people do share. 

And the persons whose property is taken from them are 
compelled to defend themselves as they best can. 

Of course. 

And then, although they may have no desire of change, the 
others charge them with plotting against the State and being 
friends of oligarchy ? 

True. 

And the end is that when they see the people, not of their 
own accord, but through ignorance, and because they are de- 
ceived by slanderers, seeking to do them wrong, then at last 
they are forced to become oligarchs in reality, and this is occa- 
sioned by the stings of the drones goading them ? 

Exactly. 

Then come impeachments and judgments and trials of one 
another. 

True. 

The people have always some one as a champion whom they 
nurse into greatness. 

Yes, that is their way. 

And this is the very root from which a tyrant springs ; when 
he first appears above ground he is a protector. 

Yes, that is quite clear. 

How then does a protector begin to change into a tyrant ? 

Clearly when he does what the man is said to do in the tale 
of the Arcadian temple of Lycsean Zeus. 20 

20 Lycaeus (ly-se'us) : a lofty mountain of Arcadia in southern Greece, was 
one of the chief seats of the worship of Zeus. 



368 PLATO THE TEACHER 

What tale ? 

The tale is that he who has tasted the entrails of a single 
human victim minced up with the entrails of other victims is 
destined to become a wolf. Did you never hear that ? 

O yes. 

And the protector of the people is like him, having a mob 
entirely at his disposal, he is not restrained from shedding the 
blood of kinsmen ; by the favorite method of false accusation 
he brings them into court and murders them, making the life 
of man to disappear, and with unholy tongue and lips tasting 
the blood of kindred ; some he kills and others he banishes, at 
,, the same time proclaiming abolition of debts and parti- 
tion of lands: and after this, what can be his destiny but 
either to perish at the hands of his enemies, or from being a 
man to become a wolf — that is a " tyrant ? " 

That is inevitable. 

This, I said, is he who begins to make a party against the 
rich. 

The same. 

And then he is driven out, and comes back, in spite of his 
enemies, a tyrant full made. 

That is clear. 

And if they are unable to drive him out, or get him con- 
demned to death by public opinion, they form the design of 
putting him out of the way secretly. 

Yes, he said, that is the usual plan. 

Then comes the famous request of a body-guard, which is 
made by all those who have got thus far in their career, " Let 
not the people's friend," as they say, " be lost to them." 

Exactly. 

This the people readily grant ; all their fears are for him — 
they have no fear for themselves. 

Very true. 

And when a man who is wealthy and is also accused of be- 
ing an enemy of the people sees this, then, my friend, as the 
oracle said to Croesus, — 

" By pebbly Hennas' shore he flees and rests not, and is not ashamed 
to be a coward." "- 1 

21 Part of the reply made by the oracle of Apollo at Delphi to Croesus, 
king of Lydia, when he inquired of the god whether he should go to war 
with Cyrus, king of Persia. 



THE REPUBLIC 369 

And quite right too, said he, for, if he were ashamed, he 
would never be ashamed again. 

Yes, I said, and he who is caught is put to death. 22 

Inevitably. 

And he, the protector of whom we spake, is not fallen in his 
might, but himself the overthrower of many, is to be seen 
standing up in the chariot of State with the reins in his hand, 
no longer protector, but tyrant absolute. 

No doubt, he said. 

And now let us tell of the happiness of the man, and also of 
the State, in which this sort of creature is generated. 

Yes, he said, let us tell of that. 

At first, in the early days of his power, he smiles upon every 
one and salutes every one ; he to be called a tyrant, who is 
making promises in public and also in private ! liberating 
debtors, and distributing land to the people and to his followers, 
and wanting to be kind and good to every one. 

That is the regular thing. 

But when he has got rid of foreign enemies, and is recon- 
ciled with some of them and has destroyed others, and there is 
nothing to fear from them, then he is always stirring up , 
some war or other, in order that the people may re- 
quire a leader. 

Yes, that may be expected of him. 

Has he not also another object, which is that they may be 
impoverished by payment of taxes, and thus compelled to de- 
vote themselves to their daily wants, and therefore less likely 
to plot against him ? 

Clearly. 

Yes, and if he suspects any of them of having notions of free- 
dom, and of being disloyal to him, he has a good pretext for de- 
stroying them by giving them up to the enemy ; and for all these 
reasons the tyrant is always compelled to be getting up a war. 

That is inevitable. 

Now he begins to grow unpopular. 

That is the necessary result. 

Then some of those who joined in setting him up, and who 
are in power — that is to say, the most courageous of them — 
speak their minds to him and to one another, and cast in his 
teeth the things which are being done. 

22 Note the fate of Polemarchus, Republic, I., note 1. 
24 



370 PLATO THE TEACHER 

Yes, that is to be expected. 

And the tyrant, if he means to rule, must get rid of them ; 
he cannot stop while he has a friend or an enemy who is good 
for anything. 

That is plain. 

And therefore he must use his eyes and see who is valiant, 
who is high-minded, who is wise, who wealthy ; happy man, 
he is the enemy of them all, and must seek occasion against 
them whether he will or no, until he has made a purgation of 
the State. 

Yes, he said, and a rare purgation. 

Yes, I said, not the sort of purgation which the physicians 
make of the body ; for they take away the worse and leave the 
better part, but he does the opposite. 

I suppose that he cannot help himself, he replied. 

What a blessed alternative, I said, to be compelled to dwell 
only with the many bad, and hated by them, or not to live 
at all. 

Yes, that is the alternative. 

And the more detestable he is in his actions the more body- 
guards and the greater devotion in them will he require? 

Certainly. 

And who are the devoted band, and w r here will he procure 
them ? 

They will flock to him, he said, of their own accord, if he 
pays them. 

By the dog ! I said, you are again introducing drones out of 
other lands and of every sort. 

Yes, he said, that I am. 

But will he not desire to get them on the spot ? 

How do you mean ? 

He will emancipate the slaves and enroll them in his body- 
guard ? 

To be sure, he said, and he will be able to trust them best of all. 

What a blessed fellow, I said, must this tyrant be ; when he 
has put to death the others he has only these for his trusted 
68 friends. 

Yes, he said, and they are his friends. 

Yes, I said, and these are the new citizens whom he has 
called into existence, who admire him and live with him, while 
the good hate and avoid him. 



THE REPUBLIC 37 1 

Of course. 

Verily, then, tragedy is a wise thing and Euripides a great 
tragedian. 

Why do you say that ? 

Why, because he is the author of that rare saying, — 

44 Tyrants are wise by living with the wise ; " 

and he clearly meant to say that they are the wise with whom 
the tyrant lives. 

Yes, he said, and he also praises tyranny as godlike : this 
and many other things of the same kind are said by him and 
the other poets. 

And therefore, I said, the tragic poets in their wisdom will 
forgive us and others who have a similar form of government, 
if we object to having them in our State, because they are the 
eulogists of tyranny. 

Yes, he said, those who have the wit will doubtless forgive 
us. 

Yes, I said, and they go about to other cities and attract 
mobs ; and have voices fair and loud and persuasive, and draw 
the cities over to tyrannies and democracies. 

Very true. 

Moreover, they are paid for this and receive honor — the 
greatest honor from tyrants, and the next greatest from democ- 
racies ; but the higher they ascend our constitution hill, the 
more their reputation fails, and seems unable from shortness 
of breath to proceed further. 

True. 

But we are digressing. Let us therefore return and inquire 
how the tyrant will maintain that fair and numerous and vari- 
ous and ever-changing army of his. 

If, he said, there are sacred treasures in the city, he will 
spend them as far as they go ; that is obvious. And he will 
then be able to diminish the taxes which he would otherwise 
have to impose. 

And when these fail ? 

Why, clearly, he said, then he and his boon companions, 
whether male or female, will be maintained out of his father's 
estate. 

I see your meaning, I said. You mean that the people who 
begat him will maintain him and his companions ? 



372 PLATO THE TEACHER 

Yes, he said ; he cannot get on without that. 

But what if the people go into a passion, and aver that a 
grown-up son ought not to be supported by his father, but that 
, the father should be supported by the son ? He did not 
bring his son into the world and establish him in or- 
der that when he was grown up he himself might serve his 
own servants, and maintain him and his rabble of slaves and 
companions ; but that, having such a protector, he might be 
emancipated from the government of the rich and aristocratic, 
as they are termed. And now, here is this son of his, bidding 
him and his companions pack, just as a father might drive out 
of his house a riotous son and his party of revelers. 

In the end, he said, the parent will be certain to discover 
what a monster he has been fostering in his bosom ; and when 
he wants to drive him out, he will find that he is weak and 
his son strong. 

Why, you do not mean to say that the tyrant will use vio- 
lence ? What ! beat his father if he resists ? 

Yes, he will ; and he will begin by taking away his arms. 

Then he is a parricide, and a cruel unnatural son to an 
aged parent whom he ought to cherish ; and this is real tyr- 
anny, about which there is no mistake : as the saying is, the 
people who would avoid the slavery of freemen, which is 
smoke and appearance, has fallen under the tyranny of slaves, 
which is fire. Thus liberty, getting out of all order and rea- 
son, passes into the harshest and bitterest form of slavery. 

Yes, he said, that is true. 

Very well, I said ; and may we not say that we have dis- 
cussed enough the nature of tyranny, and the manner of the 
transition from democracy to tyranny ? 

Yes, quite enough, he said. 



THE REPUBLIC 373 



BOOK IX 



Last of all comes the tyrannical man ; about whom we 
have once more to ask how is he formed out of the 
democratical ? and how does he live, in happiness or in 
misery ? 

Yes, he said, he is the only one remaining. 

There is, however, I said, a previous question which I should 
like to consider. 

What is that ? 

I do not think. that we have adequately determined the nat- 
ure and number of the appetites, and until this is accomplished 
the inquiry will always be perplexed. 

Well, but you may supply the omission. 

Very true, I said ; and observe the point which I want to 
understand. Certain of the unnecessary pleasures and appe- 
tites are deemed to be unlawful ; every man appears to have 
them, only in some persons they are controlled by the laws and 
by reason, and the better desires prevail over them, and either 
they are wholly banished or are few and weak : while in the 
case of others they are stronger, and there are more of them. 

Which appetites do you mean ? 

I mean those which are awake when the reasoning and tam- 
ing and ruling power is asleep ; the wild beast in our nature, 
gorged with meat or drink, starts up and walks about naked, 
and surfeits after his manner, and there is no conceivable folly 
or crime, however shameless or unnatural — not excepting in- 
cest or parricide, or the eating of forbidden food — of which 
such a nature may not be guilty. 

That is most true, he said. 

But when a man's pulse is healthy and temperate, and he 
goes to sleep cool and rational, after having supped on a feast 
of reason and speculation, and come to a knowledge of himself, 
having indulged appetites neither too much nor too little, but 
just enough to lay them to sleep, and prevent them and their 
enjoyments and pains from interfering with the higher 
principle — leaving that in the solitude of pure abstrac- 
tion, free to contemplate and aspire to the knowledge of the 
unknown, whether in past, present, or future: when, again, 



374 PLATO THE TEACHER 

before going to sleep he has allayed the passionate element, if 
he has a quarrel against any one — I say, when, after pacifying 
the two irrational principles, he rouses up the third or rational 
element before he takes his rest, then, as you know, he attains 
truth most nearly, and is least likely to be the sport of fanciful 
and lawless visions. 

In that opinion I entirely agree. 

In saying this I have been running into a digression ; but 
the point which I desire to note is that in all of us, even in 
good men, there is such a latent wild-beast nature, which peers 
out in sleep. Pray, consider whether I am right, and you 
agree with me in this view. 

Yes, I agree. 

Remember then the character which we assigned to the dem- 
ocratic man. He was supposed from his youth upwards to 
have been trained under a miserly parent, and to have encour- 
aged the saving appetites, and discountenanced the lighter and 
more ornamental ones? 

True. 

And then he got into the company of a more refined, licen- 
tious sort of people, and he took to wantonness, and began to 
have a dislike of his father's narrow ways. At last, being a 
better man than his corruptors, he came to a mean, and led a 
life, not of lawless and slavish passion, but of regular and suc- 
cessive indulgence. That was our view of the way in which 
the democrat was generated out of the oligarch ? 

Yes, he said ; and that is still our view. 

And now, I said, years will have passed away, and you must 
imagine this man, such as he is, to have a son, who is brought 
up in his father's principles ; and then further imagine the 
same thing to happen to the son which has already happened 
to the father — he is seduced into a perfectly lawless life, which 
is termed perfect liberty ; and his father and friends take part 
with his moderate desires, while others assist the opposite ones. 
At length, these dire magicians and tyrant-makers begin to 
fear that they will be unable to hold the youth, and then they 
contrive to implant in him a master passion, to be lord over 
his idle and spendthrift desires — like a monster drone 
having wings. That is the only image which will de- 
pict him and his lusts. 

Yes, he said, that is the best, the only image of him. 



THE REPUBLIC 375 

And while the other lusts amid clouds of incense and per- 
fumes and garlands and wines, and all the dissoluteness of so- 
cial life are buzzing around him and flattering him to the 
utmost, there is implanted in him the sting of desire, and 
then this lord of the soul is in a frenzy — madness is the cap- 
tain of the guard — and if he discerns in his soul any opin- 
ions or appetites which may be regarded as good, and which 
have any sense of shame remaining, he puts an end to them, 
and casts them forth until he has purged away temperance 
and brought in madness to the full. 

Yes, he said, that is the way in which the tyrannical man is 
generated. 

And is not this the reason why of old love has been called a 
tyrant ? 

Yes, perhaps. 

Further, I said, has not a drunken man also the spirit of a 
tyrant ? 

True. 

And you know that a man who is deranged and not right in 
his mind, will fancy that he is able to rule, not only over men, 
but also over the gods ? 

True. 

And the tyrannical man comes into being just at that point 
when either under the influence of nature, or habit, or both, 
he becomes drunken, lustful, passionate ? 

Exactly. 

Such is the man and such is his origin. And next, how 
does he live ? 

That, as people facetiously say, you may as well tell me. 

I imagine, I said, as the next step in his progress, that there 
will be feasts and carousals and revellings, and courtesans, and 
all that sort of thing ; love is the lord of the house within him, 
who orders all the concerns of the soul. 

That is certain. 

Yes ; and every day and every night desires grow up many 
and formidable, and their demands are many. 

They are indeed, he said. 

His revenues, if he has any, are soon spent. 

True. 

Then he borrows money, and his estate is taken from him. 

Of course. 



176 PLATO THE TEACHER 

When he has nothing left, must not his desires, crowding 
in the nest like young ravens, be crying aloud for food ; he, 
goaded on by them, and especially by love himself on 
whom they dance attendance, is at his wits' end to dis- 
cover whom he can defraud or despoil of his property, in order 
that he may gratify them ? 

Yes, that is sure to be the case. 

He must have money, and no matter how, if he is to escape 
horrid pangs and pains. 

He must. 

And as in himself there was a succession of pleasures, and 
the new got the better of the old and took away their rights, 
so he being younger will claim to have more than his father 
and his mother, and if he has spent his own property, he will 
take a slice out of theirs. 

No doubt of that. 

And if his parents will not suffer this, then he will try to 
cheat and deceive them. 

Very true. 

And if he cannot, then he will plunder and force them. 

Yes, probably. 

And if the old man and the old woman hold out against 
him, will he be very careful of doing anything which is tyran- 
nical ? 

Nay, he said, I should not feel at all comfortable about his 
parents. 

But, O heavens ! Adeimantus, on account of some new- 
fangled love of a harlot, who is anything but a necessary con- 
nection, can you believe that he would strike the mother who 
is his ancient friend and necessary to his very existence, and 
would place her under the authority of the other, when she is 
brought under the same roof with her ; or that, under like cir- 
cumstances, he would do the same to his withered old father, 
first and most indispensable of friends, for the sake of some 
blooming love of a youth who is the reverse of indispensable ? 

Yes, indeed, he said ; I believe that he would. 

Truly, then, I said, a tyrannical son is a blessing to his 
father and mother. 

Yes, indeed, he replied. 

He first takes their property, and when that fails, and pleas- 
ures are beginning to swarm in the hive of his soul, then he 



THE REPUBLIC 377 

breaks into a house, or steals the garments of some nightly way- 
farer, and the next thing is that he lifts a temple ; and while ail 
this is going on, the old opinions about good and evil which he 
had when a child, and which were thought by him to be right, 
are overthrown by those others which have just been emanci- 
pated, and are now the guard and associates of love, being those 
which in former days, when he was a partisan of democracy and 
subject to the laws and to his father, were only let loose in the 
dreams of sleep. But now that he is under the tyranny of love, 
he becomes always and in waking reality what he was then 
very rarely and in a dream only ; he will commit the foulest 
murder, or eat forbidden food, or be guilty of any other horrid 
act. Love is his tyrant, and lives lordly in him, and being 
himself a king emancipated from all control, he leads him 
on — like man like State — into the performance of reckless 
deeds in order to maintain himself and his rabble, which evil 
communications have brought in from without, or which he 
himself has allowed to break loose within him by reason of a 
similar character in himself. Is not this a picture of his way 
of life? 

Yes, indeed, he said. 

And if there are only a few of them, and the rest of the peo- 
ple are well disposed, they go away and become the body- 
guard or mercenary soldiers of some other tyrant who may 
probably want them for a war ; and if there is no war, they 
stay at home and do mischief in the city. 

What sort of mischief? 

For example, they are the thieves, burglars, cutpurses, foot- 
pads, robbers of temples, man-stealers of the community, and 
if they are able to speak they play the part of informers, and 
bear false witness, and take bribes. 

And these, he replied, are not very small evils, even if the 
perpetrators of them are a few in number. 

Yes, I said ; but small and great are comparative terms, and 
all these things, in the misery and evil which they inflict upon 
a State, do not come within a thousand miles of the tyrant : 
the people are fools, and this class and their followers grow nu- 
merous and are aware of their numbers, and they take him who 
has most of the tyrant in his soul, and make him their leader. 

Yes, he said, that is natural ; for he will be the most tyran- 
nically disposed. 



378 PLATO THE TEACHER 

If the people yield, well and good; but if they resist him, 
as he began by beating his own father and mother, so now, if 
he has the power, he beats his dear old fatherland and mother- 
land, as the Cretans say, and brings in his young retainers to 
be their rulers and masters. And this is the end of his passions 
and desires. 

Exactly. 

Even in early days and before they get power, this is the 
way of them ; they associate only with their own flatterers or 
ready tools ; or, if they want anything from anybody, they 

, themselves are equally ready to fall down before them ; 
there is no attitude into which they will not throw them- 
selves, but when they have gained their point they know them 
no more. 

Yes, truly. 

They are always either the masters or servants and never 
the friends of anybody ; the tyrant never tastes of true free- 
dom or true friendship. 

Certainly not. 

And may we not call such men treacherous ? 

No question. 

Also they are utterly unjust, if we were right in our notion 
of justice? 

Yes, he said, and in that we were perfectly right. 

Let us then sum up in a word, I said, the character of the 
worst man : he is the waking reality of what we dreamed. 

Most true. 

And this is he who being most of a tyrant by nature bears 
rule, and the longer he lives the more of a tyrant he becomes. 

That is certain, said Glaucon, taking his turn to answer. 

And will not he who has been shown to be the wickedest, 
be also the most miserable? and he most of all and longest 
of all who has tyrannized longest and most, and is most of a 
tyrant — although this may not be the opinion of men in general? 

Yes, he said, that is inevitable. 

And must not the tyrannical man be like the tyrannical 
State, and the democratical man like the democratical State; 
and the same of the others ? 

Certainly 

And as State is to State in virtue and happiness, man is to 
man? 



THE REPUBLIC 379 

To be sure. 

Then comparing the former city which was under a king and 
the city which was under a tyrant, how do they stand as to 
virtue ? 

They are the opposite extremes, he said, for one is the very 
best and the other is the very worst. 

There can be no mistake, I said, as to which is which, and 
therefore I will at once inquire whether you would arrive at a 
similar decision about their relative happiness and misery. 
And here we must not allow ourselves to be panic-stricken at 
the apparition of the tyrant, who is only a unit and may per- 
haps have a few retainers about him ; but let us go as we 
ought and view the whole city and look all around, and then 
we will give our opinion. 

A fair invitation, he replied ; and I see, as every one must, 
that a tyranny is the wretchedest form of government, and 
monarchy the happiest. 

And may I not fairly ask in like manner to have a judge of 
the men whose mind can enter into and see through human 
nature ; he must not be a child who looks at the outside and 
is dazzled at the pompous aspect which tyranny assumes 
to the beholder, but let him be one who has a clear in- 
sight. May I suppose that the judgment is given in the hear- 
ing of us all by one who is able to judge, and has dwelt in the 
same place with him, and been present at his daily life and 
known him in his family, in which he is seen stripped of his 
tragedy attire, and again in the hour of public danger ; he 
shall tell us about the happiness and misery of the tyrant when 
compared with other men ? 

That again, he said, is a very fair proposal. 

Let us now assume this able and experienced judge to be 
ourselves, and then we shall have some one who will answer 
our inquiries. 

By all means. 

Let us ask you not to forget the parallel of the individual 
and the State; bearing this in mind, and glancing in turn 
from one to the other of them, will you tell me their respective 
conditions ? 

In what points ? he asked. 

Beginning with the State, I replied, would you say that a 
city which is governed by a tyrant is free or enslaved ? 



380 PLATO THE TEACHER 

Nothing, he said, can be more completely enslaved. 

And yet, as you see, there are masters and there are free- 
men in such a State ? 

Yes, he said, I see that there are, — a few ; but the people 
as a whole (speaking generally) and the best of them are dis- 
gracefully and miserably enslaved. 

Then if the man is like the State, I said, must not the same 
hold of the man ? his soul is full of meanness and serfdom, — 
the best elements in him are enslaved ; and there is a small 
ruling part which is also the worst and maddest. 

That is inevitable. 

And would you say that the soul of such an one is the soul 
of a freeman or of a slave ? 

He has the soul of a slave, in my judgment. 

And the State which is enslaved under a tyrant is very far 
from acting voluntarily ? 

Very far, indeed. 

And also the soul which is under a tyrant (I am speaking 
of the soul taken as a whole) is very far from doing as she 
desires ; there is a gadfly which goads her, and she is full of 
trouble and remorse? 

Certainly. 

And is the city which is under a tyrant rich or poor? 

Poor. 

And the tyrannical soul must be always poor and insatiable ? 

8 True. 

And must not such a State and such a man be always 
full of fear ? 

Yes, indeed. 

Is there any State in which you will find more of lamenta- 
tion and sorrow and groaning and pain ? 

Certainly not. 

And is there any man in whom you will find more misery 
of the same kind than in the tyrannical man, who is in a fury 
of passions and desires ? 

Impossible. 

Reflecting then upon these and similar evils, you held the 
tyrannical State to be the most miserable of States ? 

And I was right, he said. 

Certainly, I said. And when you see the same evils in the 
tyrannical man, what do you say of him? 



THE REPUBLIC 381 

I say that he is by far the most miserable of all men. 

There, I said, I think that you are wrong. 

How is that ? he said. 

I do not think that he has as yet reached the utmost extreme 
of misery. 

Then who is more miserable? 

One of whom I am about to speak. 

Who is that ? 

He who is of a tyrannical nature, and instead of leading a 
private life is cursed with the further misfortune of being a pub- 
lic tyrant. 

I should conjecture from the previous remarks that you are 
right. 

Yes, I said ; but in this high argument of good and evil you 
should not conjecture only — you should have a certainty. 

That is very true, he said. 

Let me then offer you an illustration, which may, I think, 
have an application to this subject. 

What is your illustration ? 

The case of rich individuals in cities who possess many 
slaves : from them you may form an idea of the tyrant's State, 
for they both have slaves ; the only difference is that he has 
more slaves. 

Yes, that is the difference. 

You know that they live securely and have no fear of their 
servants ? 

What should they fear ? 

Nothing. But do you observe the reason of this ? 

Yes; the reason is, that the whole city is leagued together for 
the protection of each individual. 

That is quite true, I said. But imagine that one of these 
owners is carried off by a god into the wilderness, where there 
are no freemen to help him — he and his household, and he is 
the master say of about fifty slaves — will he not be in an agony 
of apprehension lest he and his wife and children should be put 
to death by his slaves ? 

Yes, he said, he will be in the utmost alarm. 

Will he not be compelled to flatter divers of his slaves, 
and make many promises to them of freedom and other things 
much against his will? — he will become the servant of his 
servants. 



382 PLATO THE TEACHER 

Yes, he said, that will be the only way of saving his life. 

And suppose that the same god who carries him off puts him 
down among neighbors who will not allow a man to be the 
master of another, and, if they catch him, are ready to inflict 
capital punishment upon him ? 

Then his case will be even worse, he said, when he is sur- 
rounded and watched by enemies. 

And is not this the sort of prison in which the tyrant will be 
bound ? — he being by nature such as we have described, is full 
of all sorts of fears and lusts. His soul is dainty and greedy, 
and yet he only, of all men, is never allowed to go on a jour- 
ney, or to see the things which other freemen desire to see, but 
he lives in his hole like a woman hidden in the house, and is 
jealous of any other citizen who goes into foreign parts and 
sees anything of interest. 

Very true, he said. 

Such being his evil condition, am I not right in saying that 
the tyrannical man, ill-governed in his own person, whom you 
just now described as the most miserable of all, will be yet 
more miserable in a public station, when, instead of leading a 
private life, he is constrained by fortune to be a tyrant? He 
has to be master of others when he is not master of himself: 
he is like a diseased or paralytic man who is compelled to pass 
his life, not in retirement, but fighting and combating with 
other men. 

Yes, he said, that is very true, and the similitude is most 
exact. 

Is not his case utterly miserable ? and does not the actual 
tyrant lead a worse life than him whom you determined to be 
worst ? 

Certainly. 

He who is the real tyrant, whatever men may think, is the 
real slave, and is obliged to practice the greatest adulation and 
servility, and to be the flatterer of the vilest of mankind. He 
has desires which he is utterly unable to satisfy, and has more 
wants than any one, and is truly poor, if you know how to in- 
spect the whole soul of him : all his life long he is beset with 
R fear and is full of convulsions and distractions, even as 
the State which he resembles; and surely the resem- 
blance holds ? 

True, he said. 



THE REPUBLIC 383 

Moreover, as we were saying, he grows worse from having 
power : he becomes of necessity more jealous, more faithless, 
more unjust, more friendless, more impious ; he entertains and 
nurtures every evil sentiment, and the consequence is that he is 
supremely miserable, and thus he makes everybody else equally 
miserable. 

No man of any sense will dispute that. 

Come then, I said, and as the umpire gives sentence in the 
games, do you also decide who in your opinion is first in the 
scale of happiness, and who second, and in what order the 
others follow : there are five of them in all — they are the royal, 
timocratical, oligarchical, democratical, tyrannical. 

The judgment will be easily given, he replied ; they shall 
be choruses entering on the stage, and I will decide the place 
of each of them by the criterion of virtue and vice, happiness 
and misery. 

Need we hire a herald, or shall I proclaim the result — that 
the son of the best (Ariston) 1 is of opinion that the best and 
justest man is also the happiest, and that this is he who is the 
most royal master of himself ; and that the worst and most un- 
just man is also the most miserable, and that this is he who is 
the greatest tyrant of himself and of his State? 

Make the proclamation, he said. 

And shall I proclaim further, "whether seen or unseen by 
gods and men ? ' ' 

Yes, he said, you had better add that. 

Then this, I said, will be the first proof; and there is an- 
other, which may also have some weight. 

What is that ? 

The second proof is derived from the nature of the soul, 
seeing that the individual soul, like the State, has been divided 
by us into three principles, 2 the division may furnish a new 
demonstration. 

Of what nature? 

There are three pleasures which correspond to the three 
principles, and also three desires and governing powers. 

How do you mean ? he said. 

There is one principle with which a man learns, another 

1 Glaucon, to whom Socrates was talking, was the son of Ariston. Ariston 
means literally best. 

2 See Book IV., 435-442. 



384 PLATO THE TEACHER 

with which he is angry ; the third, having many forms, has no 
single name, but is termed appetitive, from the extraordinary 
strength and vehemence of the pleasures of eating and drinking 
R and the other sensual appetites; also money loving, be- 
cause this sort of desires can only be gratified by the 
help of money. 

That is true, he said. 

If we were to say that the loves and pleasures of this third 
part of the soul were concerned with gain, we should then be 
able to fall back on a single class ; and might truly describe 
this part of the soul as loving gain or money. 

Yes, I should say that. 

Again, is not the passionate element wholly set on ruling 
and conquering and getting fame? 

True. 

Suppose we call that contentious or ambitious — would the 
term be suitable ? 

Extremely suitable. 

On the other hand, every one sees that the principle of 
knowledge is wholly directed to the truth, and cares less than 
any of the others for gain or fame ? 

Far less. 

" True lover of wisdom," " lover of knowledge," are titles 
which are rightly applicable to that part of the soul ? 

Certainly. 

One principle prevails in the souls of one class of men, an- 
other in others, just as may happen ? 

Yes. 

Then we may assume that there are three classes of men — 
lovers of wisdom, lovers of ambition, lovers of gain ? 

Exactly. 

And there are three kinds of pleasures, which are their 
several objects ? 

Very true. 

Now, if you examine the three classes, and ask of them in 
turn which of their lives is pleasantest, each of them will be 
found praising his own and depreciating that of others : the 
money-maker will contrast the vanity of honor or of learning 
with the solid advantages of gold and silver ? 

True, he said. 

And the lover of honor — what will be his opinion ? Will 



THE REPUBLIC 385 

he not think that the pleasure of riches is vulgar, while the 
pleasure of learning, which has no meed of honor, he regards 
as all smoke and nonsense ? 

True, he said. 

But may we not suppose, I said, that philosophy estimates 
other pleasures as nothing in comparison with the pleasure of 
knowing the truth, and in that abiding, ever learning, in the 
pursuit of truth, not far indeed from the heaven of pleasure ? 
The other pleasures the philosopher disparages by calling them 
necessary, meaning that if there were no necessity for them, 
he would not have them. 

There ought to be no doubt about that, he replied. 

Since, then, the pleasures of each class and the life of each 
are in dispute, and the question is not which life is more or 
less honorable, or better or worse, but which is the more 
pleasant or painless — how shall we know? 

I cannot tell, he said. 

Well, but what ought to be the criterion ? Is any better 
than experience and wisdom and reason ? 

There cannot be a better, he said. 

Then, I said, reflect. Of the three individuals, which has 
the greatest experience of all the pleasures which we enumer- 
ated ? Has the lover of gain greater experience of the pleas- 
ure of knowledge derived from learning the nature of the truth 
than the philosopher has of the pleasure of gain ? 

The philosopher, he replied, has greatly the advantage ; for 
he has always known the taste of the other pleasures from his 
youth upwards : but the lover of gain in all his experience has 
not of necessity tasted — or, I should rather say, could hardly 
have tasted by any process of learning the nature of things — 
the sweetness of intellectual pleasures. 

Then the lover of wisdom has a great advantage over the 
lover of gain, for he has a double experience? 

Very great indeed. 

Again, has the philosopher greater experience of the pleas- 
ures of honor, or the lover of honor of the pleasures of knowl- 
edge ? 

Nay, he said, they are all honored in proportion as they 
attain their object ; for the rich man and the brave man and 
the wise man alike have their crowd of worshippers, and as 
they all receive honor they all have experience of the pleas- 

25 



386 PLATO THE TEACHER 

ures of honor, but the delight which is to be found in 
the knowledge of true being is known to the philosopher 
only. 

His experience, then, will enable him to judge better than 
any one ? 

Far better. 

And he is the only one who has wisdom as well as experi- 
ence? 

Certainly. 

The very faculty which is the instrument of judgment is not 
possessed by the covetous or avaricious man, but only by the 
philosopher? 

What faculty ? 

Reason, which, as we were saying, ought to have the de- 
cision. 

Yes. 

And reasoning is peculiarly his instrument ? 

Certainly. 

If wealth and gain were the criterion, then what the lover 
of gain praised and blamed would surely be truest ? 

Assuredly. 

Or if honor or victory or courage, in that case the ambi- 
tious or contentious would decide best ? 

Clearly. 

But since experience and wisdom and reason are the judges, 
the inference of course is, that the truest pleasures are those 
which are approved by the lover of wisdom and reason. And 
R _ so we arrive at the result, that the pleasure of the intel- 
5 3 ~ ligent part of the soul is the pleasantest of the three, and 
that he in whom this is the ruling principle has the 
pleasantest life? 

Unquestionably, he said, the wise man has the fullest right 
to approve of his own life. 

And what does the judge affirm to be the life which is next, 
and the pleasure which is next ? 

Clearly that of the soldier and lover of honor : that is 
nearer to himself than that of the trader. 

Last comes the lover of gain. 

Very true, he said. 

Twice, then, has the just man overthrown the unjust ; and 
now comes the third trial, which is sacred to the Olympic 



THE REPUBLIC 387 

saviour Zeus 3 : a sage whispers in my ear that no pleasure 
except that of the wise is quite true and pure — all others are a 
shadow only ; and this will surely prove the greatest and most 
decisive of falls ? 

Yes, the greatest ; but will you explain how this is ? 

[Socrates leads a discussion intended to prove that the pleas- 
ures of the sensual and also of the spirited part of man's nature 
are less real and less satisfying than those of the rational part. 
He continues : ] 

Those then who know not wisdom and virtue, and are 
always busy with gluttony and sensuality, go down and up 
again as far as the mean ; and in this space they move ~ 
at random throughout life, but they never pass into the 
true upper world ; thither they neither look, nor do they ever 
find their way, neither are they truly filled with true being, 
nor do they taste of true and abiding pleasure. Like brute 
animals, with their eyes down and bodies bent to the earth or 
leaning on the dining-table, they fatten and feed and breed, 
and, in their excessive love of these delights, they kick and 
butt at one another with horns and hoofs which are made 
of iron; and they kill one another by reason of their insati- 
able lust. For they fill themselves with that which is not sub- 
stantial, and the part of themselves which they fill is also un- 
substantial and incontinent. 

Verily, Socrates, said Glaucon, you describe the life of the 
many like an oracle. 

Their pleasures are mixed with pains. How can they be 
otherwise ? For they are mere images and shadows of the 
true, and are colored only by contrast, and this way of look- 
ing at them doubly exaggerates them, and implants in the 
minds of fools insane desires of them ; and they are fought 
about as Stesichorus says that the Greeks fought about the 
shadow of Helen at Troy 4 in ignorance of the truth. 

Yes, inevitably, he said ; that is the way. 

3 One of the titles of Zeus was saviour. The third cup of wine was dedicated 
to him. To drink this cup came to be a symbol of good luck, and the third 
time came to mean the lucky time In allusion to this Socrates says the 
third victory of the just man should be dedicated to the Olympian saviour. 

4 See Phsedrus, note 37. According to Stesichorus, Paris did not carry 
to Troy the real Helen, but only a phantom of her created by the goddess 
Hera (he'ra), the Roman Juno. 



388 PLATO THE TEACHER 

And must not the like happen with the spirited or passion- 
ate element of the soul ? Will not the passionate man be in 
the like case, if he carries his passion into act, either because 
he is envious and ambitious, or violent and contentious, or 
angry and discontented, and is seeking to attain honor and 
victory and the satisfaction of his anger without reason or 
sense ? 

Yes, he said, the same will happen with the spirited element 
also. 

Then may we not confidently assert that the lovers of money 
and honor, when they seek their pleasures under the guidance 
and in the company of reason, and pursue after and win the 
pleasures which wisdom shows them, will also have the truest 
pleasures in the highest degree which is attainable to them, in- 
asmuch as they follow truth ; and they will also have those 
which are natural to them, if that which is best to each one is 
also most natural to him? 

Yes, certainly ; the best is the most natural. 

Then, when the whole soul follows the philosophical princi- 
ple, and there is no division, the several parts each of them 
£ do their own business, and are just, and each of them 
enjoy their own best and truest pleasures ? 

Exactly. 

But when either of the other principles prevails, it fails in 
attaining its own pleasure, and compels the others to pursue 
after a shadow of pleasure which is not theirs? 

True. 

And the greater the interval which separates them from phi- 
losophy and reason, the more strange and illusive will be the 
pleasure ? 

Yes. 

And that is farthest from reason which is at the greatest dis- 
tance from law and order. 

Clearly. 

And the lustful and tyrannical desires are at the greatest dis- 
tance ? 

Yes. 

And the royal and orderly desires are nearest ? 

Yes. 

Then the tyrant will live most unpleasantly, and the king 
most pleasantly ? 



THE REPUBLIC 389 

Yes. 

Would you know the measure of the interval between them ? 

If you will tell me. 

There appear to be three pleasures, one genuine and two 
spurious ; now the transgression of the tyrant reaches a point 
beyond the spurious ; he has run away from the region of law 
and reason, and taken up his abode with certain slave pleasures 
which are his satellites, and the measure of his inferiority can 
only be expressed in a figure. 

[Here follows a curious, perhaps humorous, calculation to 
prove that the good king is 729 times happier than the tyrant.] 

What a wonderful calculation ! And how enormous is the 
interval which separates the just from the unjust in ~~ 
regard to pleasure and pain ! 

Yet a true calculation, I said, and a number which nearly 
concerns human life, if human life is concerned with days and 
nights and months and years. 

Yes, he said, human life is certainly concerned with them. 

Then if the good and just man be thus superior in pleasure 
to the evil and unjust, his superiority will be infinitely greater 
in propriety of life and in beauty and virtue? 

Immeasurably greater, indeed, he said. 

Well, I said, and now we have arrived at this point I may 
resume the beginning of the argument, which arose out of 
some one saying that injustice was a gain to the perfectly un- 
just who was reputed to be just. Was not that said ? 

Yes, that was said. 

Come then, I said, and now that we have determined the 
power and quality of justice and injustice, let us have a word 
with him. 

What shall we say to him ? 

Let us make an image of the soul, that he may have his own 
words presented before his eyes. 

What sort of an image ? 

An ideal image of the soul, like the creations of ancient 
mythology, such as the Chimera 3 or Scylla 6 or Cerberus, 7 or 

5 See Phaedrus, note 16. 

6 Scylla (syl'la) : a sea-monster, variously described, usually with six 
heads, and lower limbs of barking dogs and serpents. 

7 Cerberus (ser'be-rus), a many-headed dog with serpents about his neck, 
stationed at the entrance to Hades. Different poets describe him differently. 



390 PLATO THE TEACHER 

any other in which two or more different natures are said to 
grow into one. 

There are said to have been such unions. 

Then do you now model the form of a multitudinous, poly- 
cephalous 8 beast, having a ring of heads of all manner of 
beasts, tame and wild, which he is able to generate and met- 
amorphose at will. 

That, he said, implies marvelous powers in the artist; but, 
as language is more pliable than wax or similar substances, I 
have done as you say. 

Suppose now that you make a second form as of a lion, and 
a third of a man, the second smaller than the first, and the 
third smaller than the second. 

That, he said, is an easier task ; and I have made them as 
you say. 

Then now join them, and let the three grow into one. 

That has been accomplished. 

Now fashion the outside into a single image, as of a man, 
so that he who is not able to look within, and sees only the 
outer hull or vessel, may believe the beast to be a single 
human creature. 

That is completed, he said. 

And now let us say to him who maintains the profitable- 
ness of justice and the unprofitableness of injustice, that his 
R0 doctrine amounts to this : he is asserting that his inter- 
est is to feast and strengthen the lion and the lion -like 
qualities and to starve and weaken the man ; who in conse- 
quence of this is at the mercy of either of the other two, and 
he is not to attempt to familiarize or harmonize them with one 
another : he ought rather to suffer them to fight and bite and 
devour one another. 

Certainly, he said ; that is what the approver of injustice says. 

To him the supporter of justice makes answer that he 
ought rather to aim in all he says and does at strengthening 
the man within him, in order that he may be able to govern 
the many-headed monster. Like a good husbandman he 
should be watching and tending the gentle shoots, and pre- 
venting the wild ones from growing ; making a treaty with 
the lion-heart, and uniting the several parts with one another 
and with themselves. 

8 Many-headed. 



THE REPUBLIC 391 

Yes, he said, that is quite what the maintainer of justice will say. 

And in every point of view, whether of pleasure, honor, or 
advantage, the approver of justice is right and speaks the truth, 
and the disapprover is wrong, and false, and ignorant ? 

Yes, truly. 

Come, now, and let us reason with the unjust, who is not 
intentionally in error. "Sweet Sir," we will say to him, 
" what think you of the noble and ignoble ? Is not the noble 
that which subjects the beast to the man, or rather to the god 
in man ; and the ignoble that which subjects the man to the 
beast ? ' ' He can hardly avoid admitting this, — can he now ? 

Not if he has any regard for my opinion. 

But, if he admit this, we may ask him another question : 
How would a man profit if he received gold and silver on the 
condition that he was to enslave the noblest part of him to 
the worst ? Who can imagine that a man who sold his son 
or daughter into slavery for money, especially if he sold them 
into the hands of fierce and evil men, would be the gainer, how- 
ever large might be the sum which he received ? And will 
any one say that he is not a miserable caitiff who sells his Q 
own divine being to that which is most atheistical and 
detestable, and has no pity ? Eriphyle 9 took the necklace as 
the price of her husband's life, but he is taking a bribe in 
order to compass a worse ruin. 

Yes, said Glaucon, far worse, I will answer for him. 

Is not intemperance censured, I said, because in this con- 
dition that huge multiform monster is allowed to be too much 
at large? 

Clearly. 

And pride and sullenness are blamed, as occasioning the 
growth and increase of the lion and serpent element out of 
proportion? 

Yes. 

And luxury and softness are blamed, because they relax and 
weaken this same element, and make a man a coward ? 

Very true. 

9 Eriphyle (eVi-fy'le) : according to legend, the sister of King Adrastus of 
Argos, and wife of Amphiarus, a sooth-sayer. It was agreed that whea 
husband and brother differed in opinion, Eriphyle should decide between 
them. Once when the question was whether Amphiarus should go to a war, 
Eriphyle, for the bribe of a precious necklace, decided that he must go, 
though she knew from her husband's prophecy that he could not return alive. 



3Q2 PLATO THE TEACHER 

And is not a man reproached for flattery and meanness who 
subordinates the spirited animal to the unruly monster, and, 
for the sake of money, of which he can never have enough, 
habituates him in the days of his youth to be trampled in the 
mud, and from being a lion to become a monkey ? 

True, he said. 

And why are vulgarity and handicraft arts a reproach ? 
Only because they imply a natural weakness of the higher 
principle, and the individual is unable to control the creatures 
within him, but has to court them, and his only study is how 
to flatter them ? 10 

That appears to be true. 

And, therefore, that he may be under the same rule as the 
best, we say that he ought to be the servant of the best ; not, 
as Thrasymachus supposed, to the injury of him who served, 
but because every one had better be ruled by divine wisdom 
dwelling within him ; or, if that be impossible, then by an 
external authority, in order that we may be all, as far as possi- 
ble, under the same government ? 

True, he said. 

And this is clearly seen to be the intention of the law, 

which is the ally of the whole city ; and is seen also in the 

authority which is exerted over children, and the refusal 
SOI 

to allow them to be free until the time when, as in a 

State, we have given them a constitution, and by cultivation 
of the higher element have established in their hearts a watch- 
man and ruler like our own, and when this is done they may 
go their ways. 

Yes, he said, that is a further proof. 

In what point of view, then, and on what ground shall a 
man be profited by injustice or intemperance or other base- 
ness, even though he acquire money or power ? 

There is no ground on which this can be maintained ? 

What shall he profit, if his injustice be undetected ? for he 
who is undetected only gets worse, whereas he who is detected 
and punished has the brutal part of his nature silenced and 
humanized ; the gentler element in him is liberated, and his 
whole soul is perfected and ennobled by the acquirement of 
justice and temperance and wisdom, more than the body ever 
is by receiving gifts of beauty, strength, and health, in pro- 
portion as the soul is more honorable than the body. 
10 See Book VI., 496. 



THE REPUBLIC 393 

Certainly, he said. 

The man of understanding will concentrate himself on this 
as the work of life. And in the first place, he will honor 
studies which impress these qualities on his soul, and will dis- 
regard others ? 

Clearly, he said. 

In the next place, he will keep under his body, and so far 
will he be from yielding to brutal and irrational pleasures, that 
he will regard even health as quite a secondary matter ; his 
first object will be not that he may be fair or strong or well, 
unless he is likely thereby to gain temperance, but he will be 
always desirous of preserving the harmony of the body for the 
sake of the concord of the soul ? 

Certainly, he replied, that he will, if he has true music in him. 

And there is a principle of order and harmony in the acqui- 
sition of wealth ; this also he will observe, and will not allow 
himself to be dazzled by the opinion of the world, and heap 
up riches to his own infinite harm ? 

I think not, he said. 

He will look at the city which is within him, and take care 
to avoid any change of his own institutions, such as might 
arise either from abundance or from want ; and he will duly 
regulate his acquisition and expense, in so far as he is able ? 

Very true. 

And for the same reason, he will accept such honors 
as he deems likely to make him a better man ; but those 9 
which are likely to disorder his constitution, whether private 
or public honors, he will avoid? 

Then, if this be his chief care, he will not be a politician. 

By the dog of Egypt, he will ! in the city which is his own, 
though in his native country perhaps not, unless some provi- 
dential accident should occur. 

I understand ; you speak of that city of which we are the 
founders, and which exists in idea only; for I do not think 
that there is such an one anywhere on earth ? 

In heaven, I replied, there is laid up a pattern of such a 
city, and he who desires may behold this, and beholding, gov- 
ern himself accordingly. But whether there really is or ever 
will be such an one is of no importance to him ; for he will 
act according to the laws of that city and of no other ? 

True, he said. 



394 PLATO THE TEACHER 



BOOK X 

Of the many excellences which I perceive in the 
607 OI "der of our State, there is none which upon reflection 
pleases me better than the rule about poetry. 

What rule ? 

The rule about rejecting imitative poetry, which certainly 
ought not to be received ; as I see far more clearly now 
that the parts of the soul have been distinguished. 

What do you mean by that ? 

Speaking in confidence, for I should not like to have my 
words repeated to the tragedians and the rest of the imitative 
tribe — but I do not mind saying to you that all poetical imi- 
tations are a sort of outrage on the understanding of the 
hearers, and that the only cure of this is the knowledge of 
their true nature. 

Explain the purport of your remark. 

Well, I will tell you : although I have always from my 
earliest youth had an awe and love of Homer, which even 
now makes the words falter on my lips, for he is the great 
captain and teacher of all that goodly band of Tragic writers ; 
but a man is not to be reverenced before the truth, and there- 
fore I will speak out. 

Very good, he said. 

Listen to me then, or rather, answer me. 

Put your question. 

Can you tell me what imitation is? 

[Glaucon is afraid to reply and Socrates undertakes to ex- 
plain as follows : 

There are many beds in the world. They are all different, 
but all conform to a common plan or idea of what a bed 
should be. The makers of the beds have this idea in mind, 
but they themselves do not create the idea. The idea or per- 
fect type is created by God. The beds which the carpenter 
makes are imperfect copies of the one perfect type. All car- 
penters are therefore imitators. 

Again, the painter makes a picture of the bed. In so do- 
ing he imitates not the original bed or type made by God, 



THE REPUBLIC 395 

but the imperfect copy made by the carpenter. Moreover a 
bed may be looked at from many points of view and appears 
different from each. The painter represents it as it appears 
from one point only. To take another instance, a painter 
may paint a cobbler or a carpenter, though he knows nothing 
of their arts. Therefore we see the art of painting is an imi- 
tation of appearances and the creations of the painter are far 
removed from reality or truth. In this sense any one may 
be a creator who catches in a mirror the reflection of the sun, 
or earth or anything else. 

The poets are likewise imitators. They write charmingly 
about all the arts and virtues, but it is impossible from the 
very nature of knowledge for one person to know all these 
things. Moreover, any one who is able to make the original 
surely would not devote himself to making copies. The 
poet who had true knowledge of the arts and virtues, would 
leave many fair works as memorials of himself, instead of 
singing the praises of others who do accomplish these works. 
Homer, in his poems, deals with politics, education, military 
tactics, and the like. If he had had a knowledge of his sub- 
jects, if, for example, he had been a legislator or general, he 
would have made laws for the better government of some State 
or given his counsel in war. In reality, he did no public 
service nor did he act as guide and teacher to his friends. If 
Homer or Hesiod had been able to educate and improve man- 
kind, they would have had many loving disciples who would 
not have allowed them to go about begging, or else would 
have followed them about in order to get an education. Now 
since none of these good works or good counsels may be as- 
cribed to the poets, we may infer that they all, beginning with 
Homer, have been imitators. As a painter who understands 
nothing of cobbling may make the likeness of a cobbler, so 
the poets, in the color of language, present images of virtue 
and many arts whose nature they understand only enough to 
imitate them ; and by the beauty of their melody they deceive 
the ignorant. 

It may indeed be shown that " imitation is concerned with 
that which is thrice removed from the truth" as follows: 
The excellence or beauty of anything depends upon the use 
for which it is intended. The user of the flute alone knows 
what are the good and bad qualities of a flute, and must in- 



39^ PLATO THE TEACHER 

struct the artificer how to make the flute. The imitator who 
paints or describes the flute, has neither the more perfect 
knowledge which the user possesses nor the less perfect 
knowledge which the artificer has gained from the user. He 
is, therefore, as said, thrice removed from true knowledge. 
" Imitation is a kind of sport or play, and the epic and tragic 
writers are imitators in the highest degree." 

Now that the nature of imitation has been discovered, the 
next inquiry is — to what faculty in man does imitation appeal ? 
Take first the case of painting. Objects in the world about 
us look different at different times. For example, the same 
object appears straight when out of water and crooked in water. 
Thus do our senses deceive us by various kinds of illusion. 
We should be greatly confused by this variety of appearance, 
were it not that by measuring, weighing, and numbering, we 
can determine the fact. That part of the soul which trusts to 
measuring and calculation is the highest and best part, or the 
rational principle of the soul. That part of the soul which 
is deceived by appearance and does not rely on measuring, is 
one of the inferior principles of the soul. Now the imitations 
of painting, which, as we have seen, are far removed from the 
truth, address themselves not to reason, but to an inferior part 
of the soul which is capable of being imposed upon. 

We shall find that poetry is analogous to painting in that it 
appeals to another inferior principle in man's soul. When a 
man meets with misfortune, his first impulse is to moan and 
lament. This impulse is prompted by an irrational or cow- 
ardly part of his soul. The highest or rational principle bids 
him resist the desire to bewail his sufferings. It bids him 
find a cure or endure with patience. Now the calm wise tem- 
perament in which the rational principle prevails is not easy 
to imitate ; nor would it be appreciated by the mixed multi- 
tude which form the audience of the poets. The multitude 
understand best the fitful and passionate temper of man. 
Therefore in order to be popular, the imitative poet does not 
try to please or affect the rational principle in the soul of his 
hearers. Instead, he appeals to their feelings and represents 
men in trouble, weeping and wailing over misfortunes. We 
are right then in refusing to admit the poet to the State, for 
heawakens and nourishes the feelings, but he impairs the reason. 

The most serious charge against poetry is its power of harm- 



THE REPUBLIC 397 

ing even the good. Even those of us who with pride restrain 
ourselves from outcry over suffering, delight in giving way to 
sympathy with the weeping and wailing heroes of tragedy. Can 
it be right for us to admire in another what we would be ashamed 
of in ourselves ? If we indulge in pity for others, we become 
weak ourselves and will end by weeping over our own sorrows. 
The same is true of comedy. We laugh at jests on the stage, 
which we should be ashamed to utter ourselves. If we con- 
tinue to be amused by coarse merriment we shall ourselves be- 
come buffoons. In like manner anger and all the other pas- 
sions are fed and watered by poetry. But since law and 
reason are to be rulers in our State, not pain and pleasure, we 
must expel all poetry except hymns to the Gods and praises 
of famous men. 

We are conscious of the charm of poetry and we should 
gladly admit her to the State could she make a defense of her- 
self and prove that she is not only delightful but " useful to 
States and to human life."] 

But so long as she is unable to make good her defense, 
even though our ears may listen, our soul will be 2,7 
charmed against her by repeating this discourse of 
ours, and into the childish love which the many have of her 
we shall take care not to fall again, for we see that poetry be- 
ing such as she is, is not to be pursued in earnest or regarded 
seriously as attaining to the truth ; and he who listens to her 
will be on his guard against her seductions, fearing for the 
safety of the city which is within him, and he will attend to 
our words. 

Yes, he said, I quite agree with you. 

Yes, I said, my dear Glaucon, for great is the issue at stake, 
greater than appears, whether a man is to be good or bad. 
Neither under the influence of honor or money or power, aye, 
or under the excitement of poetry, ought he to fail in the ob- 
servance of justice and virtue. 

I agree, he said ; and I think that any one would agree who 
heard the argument. 

And yet, I said, no mention has been made of the greatest 
prizes and rewards of virtue. 

If, he said, there are others greater than these they must be 
of an inconceivable greatness. 



398 PLATO THE TEACHER 

Why, I said, what was ever great in a short time ? The 
whole period of threescore years and ten is surely but a little 
thing in comparison with eternity ? 

Say rather ' ' nothing, ' ' he replied. 

And should an immortal being seriously think of this little 
space rather than of the whole ? 

Yes, he said, 1 think that he should. But what do you 
mean ? 

Are you not aware, I said, that the soul is immortal and 
imperishable? 

He looked at me in astonishment, and said : No, indeed ; 
you do not mean to say that you are able to prove that ? 

Yes, I said, I ought to be able, and you too, for there is no 
difficulty. 

I do not see that, he said ; and I should like to hear this 
argument of which you make no difficulty. 

Listen then, I said. 

[In almost everything there is an inherent evil or disease. 
For example, the evil of corn is mildew, of iron, rust. The 
evil which is inherent in a thing may destroy it ; or if this 
does not, nothing else can. The soul has its evils, — injustice, 
intemperance, cowardice, and the like ; but these evils do 
not destroy the soul as disease destroys the body. Now it 
is unreasonable to suppose that a thing which cannot be de- 
stroyed from within by its own corruption, can be destroyed 
by some external evil. Bad food cannot destroy the body 
unless the corruption of the food is communicated to the 
body. In this case disease arises and this disease, not the 
food, destroys the body. On the same principle, unless some 
bodily evil can produce an evil of the soul, the bodily evil 
cannot destroy the soul. No bodily evil can infect the soul 
for no one can prove that even death makes a man more unholy 
or unjust. As no bodily evil can infect the soul none can 
destroy the soul. Now the soul which cannot be destroyed 
by any evil, whether inherent or external, must exist forever 
and so be immortal. 

Socrates continues :] 

Her immortality may be proven by the previous argument 
and by other arguments ; and you should also see her original 



THE REPUBLIC 399 

nature, not as we now behold her, marred by communion with 
the body and other miseries, but you should look upon her 
with the eye of reason, pure as at birth, and then her beauty 
would be discovered, and in her image justice would be more 
clearly seen, and injustice, and all the things which we have 
described. But now, although we have spoken the truth con- 
cerning her as she appears at present, we must remember that 
we have seen her only in a condition which may be compared 
to that of the sea-god Glaucus, whose original image can 
hardly be discerned because his natural members are broken 
off and crushed and in many ways damaged by the waves, and 
incrustations have grown over them of seaweed and shells and 
stones so that he is liker to some sea-monster than to his nat- 
ural form. And the soul is in a similar condition, disfigured 
by ten thousand ills. But not there, Glaucon, not there must 
we look. 

Where then ? 

At her love of wisdom. Let us see whom she affects, and 
what converse she seeks in virtue of her near kindred with the 
immortal and eternal and divine ; also how different she would 
become if wholly following this superior principle, and borne 
by a divine impulse out of the ocean in which she now is, and 
disengaged from the stones and shells and things of earth and 
rock which in wild variety grow around her because she , 
feeds upon earth, and is crusted over by the good things 
of this life as they are termed : then you would see her as she 
is, and know whether she have one form only or many, or 
what her nature is. Of her form and affections in this present 
life I have said enough. 

True, he said. 

Thus, I said, have we followed out the argument, putting 
aside the rewards and glories of justice, such as you were say- 
ing that Homer and Hesiod introduced ; and justice in her 
own nature has been shown to be best for the soul in her 
nature ; let her do what is just, whether she have the ring of 
Gyges 1 or not, and, besides the ring of Gyges, the helmet of 
Hades. 2 

That is very true. 

1 See Book II. , 359 

2 Hades (Roman Pluto), sovereign of the lower world, possessed a helmet 
or cap, the symbol of his invisible empire, which rendered the wearer invis- 
ible. 



400 PLATO THE TEACHER 

And now, Glaucon, there will be no harm in further enu- 
merating how many and how great are the rewards which justice 
and the other virtues procure to the soul from gods and men, 
both in life and after death. 

Certainly, he said. 

Will you repay me, then, what you borrowed in the argu- 
ment ? 

What was that ? 

I granted that the just man should appear unjust and the 
unjust just : for you were of opinion that even if the true state 
of the case could not possibly escape the eyes of gods and men, 
still this ought to be admitted for the sake of the argument, 
in order that pure justice might be weighed against pure in- 
justice. Do you not remember? 

You would have reason to complain of me if I had forgot- 
ten. 

Then, as the cause is decided, I demand on behalf of justice 
that the glory which she receives from gods and men be also 
allowed to her by you ; having been shown to have reality, 
and not to deceive those who truly possess her, she may also 
have appearance restored to her, and thus obtain the other 
crown of victory which is hers also. 

The demand, he said, is just. 

In the first place, I said — and this is the first point which 
you will have to give back — the nature both of just and unjust 
is truly known to the gods ? 

I am willing to restore that. 

And if they are both known to them, one must be the 
friend and the other the enemy of the gods, as we admitted at 
first? 

True. 

And the friend of the gods may be supposed to receive from 
, them every good, excepting only such evil as is the 
necessary consequence of former sins ? 

Certainly. 

Then this must be our notion of the just man, that even 
when he is in poverty or sickness, or any other seeming mis- 
fortune, all things will in the end work together for good to 
him in life and death 3 : for the gods have a care of any one 

3 " And we know that all things work together for good to them that love 
God." — Romans viii. 28. 



THE REPUBLIC 401 

whose desire is to become just and to be like God, as far as 
man can attain his likeness, by the pursuit of virtue ? 

Yes, he said ; if he is like God he will surely not be neg- 
lected by him. 

And of the unjust may not the opposite be assumed ? 

Certainly. 

Such, then, is the prize of victory which the gods give the 
just? 

Yes, he said, that is my belief. 

And what do they receive of men ? Look at things as they 
really are and you will see that the clever unjust are in the 
case of runners, who run well from the starting-place to the 
goal, but not back again from the goal : they start off at a great 
pace, but in the end only look foolish, slinking away with 
their ears draggling on their shoulders, and without a crown ; 
but the true runner comes to the finish and receives the prize 
and is crowned. And this is the way with the just ; he who 
endures to the end of every action and occasion of his entire 
life has a good report and carries off the prize which men 
bestow. 

True. 

And now you must allow me to repeat the blessings which 
you attributed to the fortunate unjust. I shall say of the just 
as you were saying of the unjust, that as they grow older, if 
that is their desire, they become rulers in their own city ; they 
marry whom they like and give in marriage to whomsoever 
they like ; all that you said of the others I now say of these. 
And, on the other hand, I say of the unjust that the greater 
number, even though they escape in their youth, are found 
out at last and look foolish at the end of their course, and 
when they come to be old and miserable are flouted alike by 
stranger and citizen ; they are beaten and then come those 
things unfit for ears polite, as you truly term them ; they will 
be racked and burned, as you were saying ; I shall ask you to 
suppose that you have heard all that. Will you allow me to 
assume that much ? 

Certainly, he said, for what you say is true. 

These, then, are the prizes and rewards and gifts which 
are bestowed upon the just by gods and men in this pres- 
ent life, in addition to those other good things which justice of 
herself gives. 
26 



402 PLATO THE TEACHER 

Yes, he said ; and they are fair and lasting. 

And yet, I said, all these things are as nothing, either in 
number or greatness, in comparison with those other recom- 
penses which await both just and unjust after death, which are 
more and greater far. And you ought to hear them, and then 
both of them will have received the perfect meed of words due 
to them. 

Speak, he said ; there are few things which I would more 
gladly hear. 

Well, I said, I will tell you a tale ; not one of the tales 
which Odysseus tells to Alcinous, 4 yet this too is a tale of a 
brave man, Er the son of Armenius, a Pamphylian by birth. 
He was slain in battle, and ten days afterwards, when the 
bodies of the dead were brought in already in a state of cor- 
ruption, he was brought in with them undecayed, and carried 
home to be buried. And on the twelfth day, as he was lying 
on the funeral pile, he returned to life and told them what he 
had seen in the other world. He said that when his soul de- 
parted he went on a journey with a great company, and that 
they came to a mysterious place at which there were two 
chasms in the earth ; they were near together, and over against 
them were two other chasms in the heaven above. In the 
intermediate space there were judges seated, who bade the just, 
after they had judged them, ascend by the heavenly way on 
the right hand, having the signs of the judgment bound on 
their foreheads ; and in like manner the unjust were com- 
manded by them to descend by the lower way on the left 
hand ; these also had the symbols of their deeds fastened on 
their backs. He drew near, and they told him that he was to 
be the messenger of the other world to men, and they bade 
him hear and see all that was to be heard and seen in that 
place. Then he beheld and saw on one side the souls depart- 
ing at either chasm of heaven and earth when sentence had 
been given on them ; and at the two other openings other 
souls, some ascending out of the earth dusty and worn with 
travel, some descending out of heaven, clean and bright. And 
always, on their arrival, they seemed as if they had come from 
a long journey, and they went out into the meadow with joy 
and there encamped as at a festival, and those who knew one 

4 Alcinous (al-sin'o-us) : a mythical king whom Odysseus met in his jour- 
neys. 



THE REPUBLIC 403 

another embraced and conversed, the souls which came from 
earth curiously inquiring about the things of heaven, and 
the souls which came from heaven of the things of earth. 
And they told one another of what had happened by the way, 
some weeping and sorrowing at the remembrance of the , 
things which they had endured and seen in their journey 
beneath the earth (now the journey lasted a thousand years), 
while others were describing heavenly blessings and visions of 
inconceivable beauty. There is not time, Glaucon, to tell 
all ; but the sum was this : He said that for every wrong which 
they had done to any one they suffered tenfold ; the thousand 
years answering to the hundred years which are reckoned as 
the life of man. If, for example, there were any who had 
committed murders, or had betrayed or enslaved cities or 
armies, or been guilty of any other evil behavior, for each and 
all of these they received punishment ten times over, and the 
rewards of beneficence and justice and holiness were in the 
same proportion. Not to repeat what he had to say concern- 
ing young children dying almost as soon as they were born; 
of piety and impiety to gods and parents, and of murderers, 
there were retributions yet greater which he narrated. He 
mentioned that he was present when one of the spirits asked 
another, "Where is Ardiaeus 5 the Great?" (Now this 
Ardiaeus was the tyrant of some city of Pamphylia, who had 
murdered his aged father and his elder brother, and had com- 
mitted many other abominable crimes, and he lived a thousand 
years before the time of Er.) The answer was : " He comes 
not hither, and will never come." And "indeed," he said, 
" this was one of the terrible sights which was witnessed by 
us. For we were approaching the mouth of the cave, and 
having seen all, were about to re-ascend, when of a sudden 
Ardiaeus appeared and several others, most of whom were 
tyrants ; and there were also besides the tyrants private indi- 
viduals who had been great criminals ; they were just at the 
mouth, being, as they fancied, about to return - into the upper 
world, but the opening, instead of receiving them, gave a roar, 
as was the case when any incurable or unpunished sinner , , 
tried to ascend ; and then wild men of fiery aspect, who 
knew the meaning of the sound, came up and seized and car- 
ried off several of them, and Ardiaeus and others they bound 

5 Ardiaeus (ar'di-e'us). 



404 PLATO THE TEACHER 

head and foot and hand, and threw them down and flayed 
them with scourges, and dragged them along the road at the 
side, carding them on thorns like wool, and declaring to the 
pilgrims as they passed what were their crime;, and that they 
were being taken away to be cast into hell. And of all the 
terrors of the place there was no terror like this of hearing the 
voice ; and when there was silence they ascended with joy. ' ' 
These were the penalties and retributions, and there were 
blessings as great. 

Now when the spirits that were in the meadow had tarried 
seven days, on the eighth day they were obliged to proceed on 
their journey, and on the fourth day from that time they came 
to a place where they looked down from above upon a line of 
light, like a column extending right through the whole heaven 
and earth, in color not unlike the rainbow, only brighter and 
purer; another day's journey brought them to the place, and 
there, in the midst of the light, they saw reaching from heaven 
the extremities of the chains of it : for this light is the belt of 
heaven, and holds together the circle of the universe, like the 
undergirders of a trireme. 6 And from the extremities of the 
chains is extended the spindle of Necessity, on which all the 
revolutions turn. The shaft and hook of this spindle are made 
of steel, and the whorl is made partly of steel and also partly of 
other materials. Now the whorl is in form like the whorl used 
on earth ; and you are to suppose, as he described, that there 
is one large hollow whorl which is scooped out, and into this 
is fitted another lesser one, and another, and another, and four 
others, making eight in all, like boxes which fit into one an- 
other ; their edges are turned upwards, and all together form 
one continuous whorl. This is pierced by the spindle, which 
is driven home through the center of the eighth. The first and 
outermost whorl has the rim broadest, and the seven inner 
whorls narrow, in the following proportions — the sixth is next 
to the first in size, the fourth next to the sixth ; then comes the 
eighth ; the seventh is fifth, the fifth is sixth, the third is sev- 
enth, last and eighth comes the second. The largest [or fixed 
stars] is spangled, and the seventh [or sun] is brightest ; 
the eighth [or moon] colored by the reflected light of the 
seventh ; the second and fifth [Mercury and Saturn] are like 
one another, and of a yellower color than the preceding 3 the 
6 A kind of boat with three rows of oars on a side. 



THE REPUBLIC 405 

third [Venus] has the whitest light ; the fourth [Mars] is red- 
dish ; the sixth [Jupiter] is in whiteness second. Now the 
whole spindle has the same motion ; but, as the whole revolves 
in one direction, the seven inner circles move slowly in the 
other, and of these the swiftest is the eighth ; next in swiftness 
are the seventh, sixth, and fifth, which move together ; third 
in swiftness appeared to them to move in reversed orbit the 
fourth ; the third appeared fourth, and the second fifth. The 
spindle turns on the knees of Necessity ; and on the upper sur- 
face of each circle is a siren, who goes round with them, hymn- 
ing a single sound and note. The eight together form one har- 
mony ; and round about, at equal intervals, there is another 
band, three in number, each sitting upon her throne : these are 
the Fates, daughters of Necessity, who are clothed in white rai- 
ment and have garlands upon their heads, Lachesis and Clotho 
and Atropos, 7 who accompany with their voices the harmony of 
the sirens — Lachesis singing of the past, Clotho of the present, 
Atropos of the future ; Clotho now and then assisting with a 
touch of her right hand the motion of the outer circle or whorl 
of the spindle, and Atropos with her left hand touching and 
guiding the inner ones, and Lachesis laying hold of either in 
turn, first with one hand and then with the other. 

Now when the spirits arrived, their duty was to go to Lache- 
sis ; but first a prophet came and arranged them in order ; then 
he took from the knees of Lachesis lots and samples of lives, 
and going up to a high place, spoke as follows : " Hear the 
word of Lachesis, the daughter of Necessity. Mortal souls, 
behold a new cycle of mortal life. Your genius will not 
choose you, but you will choose your genius ; and let him 
who draws the first lot have the first choice of life, which shall 
be his destiny. Virtue is free, and as a man honors or dis- 
honors her he will have more or less of her ; the chooser is 
answerable — God is justified." When the Interpreter had 
thus spoken he cast the lots among them, and each one took 
up the lot which fell near him, all but Er himself (he , ~ 
was not allowed), and each as he took his lot perceived 
the number which he had drawn. Then the Interpreter placed 
on the ground before them the samples of life ; and there were 
many more lives than the souls present, and there were all sorts 
of lives — of every animal and every condition of man. And 

7 Lachesis (lak'e-sis). Clotho (klu'tho). Atropos (at'ro-pos). 



406 PLATO THE TEACHER 

there were tyrannies among them, some continuing while the 
tyrant lived, others which broke off in the middle and came 
to an end in poverty and exile and beggary; and there were 
lives of famous men, some who were famous for their form and 
beauty as well as for their strength and success in games, or, 
again, for their birth and the qualities of their ancestors ; and 
some who were the reverse of famous for the opposite qualities. 
And of women likewise ; there was not, however, any definite 
character among them, because the soul must of necessity 
choose another life, and become another. But there were 
many elements mingling with one another, and also with ele- 
ments of wealth and poverty, and disease and health ; and 
there were mean states also. And this, my dear Glaucon, is 
the great danger of man ; and therefore the utmost care should 
be taken. Let each one of us leave every other kind of knowl- 
edge and seek and follow one thing only, if perad venture he 
may be able to learn and find who there is who can and will 
teach him to distinguish the life of good and evil, and to 
choose always and everywhere the better life as far as possible. 
He should consider the bearing of all these things which have 
been mentioned severally and collectively upon a virtuous life ; 
he should know what the effect of beauty is when compounded 
with poverty or wealth in a particular soul, and what are the 
good and evil consequences of noble and humble birth, of 
private and public station, of strength and weakness, of clever- 
ness and dullness, and of all the natural and acquired gifts of 
the soul, and study the composition of them; then he will 
look at the nature of the soul, and from the consideration of 
all this he will determine which is the better and which is the 
worse life, and at last he will choose, giving the name of evil 
to the life which will make his soul more unjust, and good to 
the life which will make his soul more just ; all else he will 
disregard. For this, as we have seen, is the best choice both 
, for this life and after death. Such an iron sense of 
truth and right must a man take with him into the world 
below, that there too he may be undazzled by the desire of 
wealth or the other allurements of evil, lest, coming upon tyr- 
annies and similar villainies, he do irremediable wrongs to 
others and suffer yet worse himself; but let him know how to 
choose the mean and avoid the extremes on either side, as far 
as in him lies, not only in this life but in all that which is to 
come. For this is the way of happiness. 



THE REPUBLIC 407 

And this was what the Interpreter said at the time, as the 
messenger from the other world reported him to have spoken 1 
" Even for the last comer, if he chooses wisely and will live 
diligently, there is appointed a happy and not undesirable ex- 
istence. Let not the first be careless in his choice, and let 
not the last despair. " As he spoke these words he who had the 
first choice drew near and at once chose the greatest tyranny ; 
his mind, having been darkened by folly and sensuality, he 
did not well consider, and therefore did not see at first that 
he was fated, among other evils, to devour his own children. 
But, when he came to himself and saw what was in the lot, 
he began to beat his breast and lament over his choice, for- 
getting the proclamation of the Interpreter; for, instead of 
blaming himself as the author of his calamity, he accused 
chance and the gods, and everything rather than himself. 
Now he was one of those who came from heaven, and in a 
former life had dwelt in a well-ordered State, but his virtue 
was a matter of habit only, and he had no philosophy. And 
this was more often the fortune of those who came from 
heaven, because they had no experience of life; whereas, in 
general, the dwellers upon earth, who had seen and known 
trouble, were not in a hurry to choose. And owing to this 
inexperience of theirs, and also because the lot was a chance, 
many of the souls exchanged a good destiny for an evil or an 
evil for a good. For if a man had always from the first dedi- 
cated himself to sound philosophy, and had been moderately 
fortunate in the number of the lot, he might, as the messenger 
reported, be happy in this life, and also his passage to another 
life and return to this, instead of being rugged and under- 
ground, would be smooth and heavenly. Most curious, he 
said, was the spectacle of the election — sad and laughable and 
strange ; the souls generally choosing according to , 
their condition in a previous life. There he saw the 
soul that was once Orpheus 8 choosing the life of a swan out 
of enmity to the race of women, hating to be born of a woman 

8 See Apology, note 51. By the power of his music Orpheus succeeded 
in entering the world of the dead and regaining his beautiful young wife 
Eurydice (u-ry'di-ce) on condition that he should not turn back to see if she 
were following until they reached the upper air. He looked back, however, 
and Eurydice was taken from him. In his grief he is said to have hated all 
women and repelled the advances of those who tried to captivate him. 
Angered by this, the Thracian women, under the excitement of certain re- 
ligious rites, tore him to pieces. 



408 PLATO THE TEACHER 

because they had been his murderers ; he saw also the soul of 
Thamyris 9 choosing the life of a nightingale ; birds, on the 
other hand, like the swan and other musicians, choosing to 
be men. The soul which obtained the twentieth lot chose 
the life of a lion, and this was the soul of Ajax 10 the son of 
Telamon, who would not be a man, remembering the injus- 
tice which was done him in the judgment of the arms. The 
next was Agamemnon, 11 who took the life of an eagle, because, 
like Ajax, he hated human nature on account of his sufferings. 
About the middle was the lot of Atalanta, 12 she seeing the 
great fame of an athlete, was unable to resist the temptation ; 
and after her there came the soul of Epeus 13 the son of Pano- 
peus passing into the nature of a woman cunning in the arts ; 
and far away among the last who chose, the soul of the jester 
Thersites 14 was putting on the form of a monkey. There 
came also the soul of Odysseus 15 having yet to make a choice, 
and his lot happened to be the last of them all. Now the 
recollection of former toils had disenchanted him of ambition, 
and he went about for a considerable time in search of the life 
of a private man who had nothing to do ; he had some diffi- 
culty in finding this which was lying about and had been neg- 
lected by everybody else ; and when he saw it he said that he 
would have done the same had he been first instead of last, 
and that he was delighted at his choice. And not only did 
men pass into animals, but I must also mention that there 
were animals tame and wild who changed into one another 
and into corresponding human natures, the good into the gen- 
tle and the evil into the savage, in all sorts of combinations. 

9 Thamyris (tham'y-ris) : a legendary Thracian bard. He challenged the 
Muses to a trial of skill, was defeated, and deprived by them of sight and 
the power of song. 

10 See Apology, note 56. He is said to have killed himself because of his 
defeat in the contest with Odysseus for the armor of Achilles. 

11 Leader in the expedition of the Greeks against Troy. See Apology, 
note 21. 

12 Atalanta (St'a-lan'ta) : a huntress, beautiful and swift of foot. 

13 Epeus [(e-pe'us), son of Panopeus (pan'o-peus)] : maker of the famous 
wooden horse, which, filled with armed Greeks, was carried by the unsus- 
pecting Trojans within their walls and proved their destruction. For at 
night the men concealed within, opened the gates of Troy to the Greeks. 
See Apology, note 21. 

14 Thersites (ther-si'-tez) : one of the Greeks who went to Troy; noted 
for his impudent talk and insolent brawling ; said to have been killed by 
Achilles because he ridiculed that hero's lament over a fallen foe. 

16 See Apology, note 58. 



THE REPUBLIC 409 

All the souls had now chosen their lives, and they went in the 
order of their choice to Lachesis, who sent with them the 
genius whom they had severally chosen, to be the guardian of 
their lives and the fulfiller of the choice ; this genius led the 
souls first to Clotho, and drew them within the revolution of 
the spindle impelled by her hand, thus ratifying the destiny of 
each ; and then, when they were fastened, carried them to 
Atropos, who spun the threads and made them irreversible ; 
whence without turning round they passed beneath the 
throne of Necessity ; and when they had all passed, they 
marched on in a scorching heat to the plain of Forgetfulness, 
which was a barren waste destitute of trees and verdure ; and 
then towards evening they encamped by the river of Negli- 
gence, the water of which no vessel can hold ; of this they 
were all obliged to drink a certain quantity, and those who 
were not saved by wisdom drank more than was necessary ; 
and those who drank forgot all things. Now after they had 
gone to rest, about the middle of the night there was a thun- 
derstorm and earthquake, and then in an instant they were 
driven all manner of ways like stars shooting to their birth. 
He himself was hindered from drinking the water. But in 
what manner or by what means he returned to the body he 
could not say ; only, in the morning awaking suddenly, he 
saw himself lying on the pyre. 

And thus, Glaucon, the tale has been saved and has not per- 
ished, and may be our salvation if we are obedient to the word 
spoken ; and we shall pass safely over the river of Forgetful- 
ness and our soul will not be denied. Wherefore my counsel 
is, that we hold fast to the heavenly way and follow after jus- 
tice and virtue always, considering that the soul is immortal 
and able to endure every sort of good and every sort of evil. 
Thus shall we live dear to one another and to the gods, both 
while remaining here and when, like conquerors in the games 
who go round to gather gifts, we receive our reward. And it 
shall be well with us both in this life and in the pilgrimage of 
a thousand years which we have been reciting. 



PH/EDO 



SUGGESTIONS ON THE STUDY OF THE PH^DO 

Instead of the ordinary form of Introduction the 
following suggestions on the study of the Phsedo 
are submitted. 

I. Do not study the dialogue first of all to see 
whether you agree with the arguments or conclu- 
sions of Socrates. Try first to hear him out, just as 
if you were with him in the prison, and to appreci- 
ate sympathetically the course and the spirit of his 
argument about immortality. 

II. Do not begin by a formal study of the dia- 
logue. Read it through at least once just as you 
would read a novel, to get the story, and general 
sense and spirit of the whole. 

III. Study of the formal arguments £pj^-iinrnjQr- 
tality : Read first very thoughtfully the account of 
the doctrine of ideas, the doctrine of the pre-exist- 
ence of the soul, and the doctrine of reminiscence in 
the Introduction, page xxvi. If you have other 
books to read on these subjects, so much the better. 
Then write out as briefly and clearly as possible the 
five formal arguments for immortality, as they are 
given in the text and summaries. 

Note : The first and fifth arguments seemed to 
one of the hearers (103) inconsistent. Jowett thinks 
them really inconsistent. 

413 



414 PLATO THE TEACHER 

Note on the argument from reminiscence: How we 
get pure abstract ideas, such as those found in pure 
mathematics, has been a standing question in philos- 
ophy. Plato held, as we see, that we remember 
such ideas from a former existence. Some modern 
philosophers have held that we are born with these 
ideas or with natural capacities which always lead 
us to them. Others have held that all such ideas 
are gained by experience. Some hold that the ex- 
periences of our ancestors are born in us as instinc- 
tive tendencies which give rise to these ideas. The 
last view has more in common with that of Plato 
than may at first appear ; for, according to this view, 
the individual has a kind of pre-existence in his 
ancestors, and his most abstract ideas are organic 
memories from that ancestral pre-existence. The 
modern theory does not, however, represent the 
soul as having existed individually before birth and 
so does not suggest an individual existence after 
death. 

IV. Besides working out the formal arguments 
for immortality, Plato suggests his belief in respect 
to it by many incidents of the story. In some cases 
the connection between the incident and the argu- 
ment is plain, in other cases, less so. 

(i.) Consider each of the following incidents to 
see what, if any, connection it has with Socrates' be- 
lief as shown in the dialogue as a whole, {a) The 
message to Evenus (61 and following); {b) The di- 
rection about the care of his sons (115) ; (c) The an- 
swer to Crito about his burial (115) ; (d) The answer 
to Crito's proposal that he postpone his death to the 
last legal moment (116). 



THE STUDY OF THE PH^DO 415 

(2.) Collect a series of quotations from the dia- 
logue which show the state of Socrates' feeling, and 
consider the connection of this feeling in presence 
of death, with his professed belief. 

(3.) More difficult points: (a) Read 89,90, and 91, 
to where the argument is resumed. Note Socrates' 
advice against misology or despair of reason. Read 
with special care the paragraph beginning, " Yes, 
Phasdo, he replied," etc., in 90. What connection 
do you find between Socrates' reason why we should 
not be misologists and his belief as shown in the dia- 
logue as a whole ? (b) Read the paragraph in 91 be- 
ginning " Let us then," etc. This paragraph appears 
to be a confession of doubt and of willingness to have 
his arguments for immortality overthrown. Is this 
confession real or affected? If it is affected, is it 
consistent with Socrates' character and professions ? 
If it is real, is it consistent with the rest of the dia- 
logue ? (c) Read from 78 to the end of 83. What is 
the deepest reason given here for loving good £nd 
for not loving evil? 

Note : Taking the dialogue as a whole, it is evi- 
dent that Plato's belief in immortality rests upon his 
conviction that beyond the world which appears to 
our senses, which is full of change, of illusion, and 
of evil, there is a world which is eternal and good ; 
that the soul belongs by its deepest nature to that 
eternal and good world ; and that by purging the 
soul from thoughts of this present evil world, and by 
feeding the soul upon that which is eternal and good, 
we may escape from this miserable changing exist- 
ence, into our true estate with God. To know the 
divine is to embrace it and to assimilate the divine 



416 PLATO THE TEACHER 

— is to be divine ; and to be divine is to be eternal. 
" This is life eternal that ye might know God and 
Jesus Christ whom he hath sent." Plato comes 
nearer to seeing this than does many a Christian. 



PH/EDO 

PERSONS OF THE DIALOGUE. 1 

Ph.edo, who is the narrator of Apollodorus. 

the Dialogue to Simmias. 

ECHECRATES of PhliltS. CEBES. 

Socrates. Crito. 

Attendant of the Prison. 

Scene : — The Prison of Socrates. 
Place of the Narration : — Phlius. 8 

Echecrates. Were you yourself, Phgedo, in the prison ctenfi 
with Socrates on the day when he drank the poison ? 3 -J 

Phcedo. Yes, Echecrates, I was. 

Ech. I wish that you would tell me about his death. What 
did he say in his last hours ? We were informed that he died 
by taking poison, but no one knew anything more; for no Phli- 
asian ever goes to Athens now, and a long time has elapsed 
since any Athenian found his way to Phlius, and therefore we 
had no clear account. 

Phced. Did you not hear of the proceedings at the ft 
trial ? 5 * 

1 Phaedo (fe'dd) : a Greek philosopher, said to have been brought to Athens 
as a slave in his youth and ransomed by one of the friends of Socrates. 
Later he founded a school of philosophy. 

Echecrates (e-kek'ra-tez) : not mentioned elsewhere in Plato. 

Apollodorus. See Symposium, note i. 

Simmias (sim'mi-as) : a native of Thebes, educated in the Pythagorean 
philosophy, which taught the doctrine of the pre-existence of the soul. Hence 
his readiness to accept Socrates' argument based on that doctrine. He is 
said to have written twenty-three dialogues, all of which are lost. 

Cebes (se'bez) : a Greek philosopher, native of Thebes. He wrote three 
dialogues, one of which, called Pinax, or The Picture, has been preserved. 

Crito : see Apology, note 35. 

2 Phlius (fli'us) : a town about sixty miles west of Athens. 

3 Hemlock. 

27 417 



41 8 PLATO THE TEACHER 

Ech. Yes ; some one told us about the trial, and we could 
not understand why, having been condemned, he was put to 
death, as appeared, not at the time, but long afterwards. What 
was the reason of this ? 

Phced. An accident, Echecrates. The reason was that the 
stern of the ship which the Athenians sent to Delos happened 
to have been crowned on the day before he was tried. 

Ech. What is this^ship ? 

Phced. This is the ship in which, as the Athenians say, The- 
seus 4 went to Crete when he took with him the fourteen youths, 
and was the saviour of them and of himself. And they were 
said to have vowed to Apollo at the time, that if they were 
saved they would make an annual pilgrimage to Delos. Now 
this custom still continues, and the whole period of the voyage 
to and from Delos, beginning when the priest of Apollo crowns 
the stern of the stiip, is a holy season, during which the city is 
not allowed to be polluted by public executions ; and often, 
when the vessel is detained 'by adverse winds, there may be 
a very considerable delay. As I was saying, the ship was 
crowned on therday before the trial, and this was the reason 
why Socrates lay in prison and was not put to death until long 
after he was condemned. 

Ech. What was the manner of his death, Phsedo ? What 
was said or done ? And which of his friends had he with him? 
Or were they not allowed by the authorities to be present ? 
And did 'he die alone ? 

Phced. No; there were several of his friends with him. 

Ech. If you have nothing to do, I wish that you would tell 
me what passed, as exactly as you can. 

Phced. I have nothing to do, and will try to gratify your 
wish. For to me too there is no greater pleasure than to have 



4 Theseus (the'sus) : a legendary Greek hero, one of whose exploits was 
the slaying of a monster called the Minotaur (min'o-taur). To this monster, 
imprisoned in a cave of Crete, Athens had to send a yearly sacrifice of seven 
youths and seven maidens. Theseus went voluntarily as one of these victims 
to Crete and with the help of Ariadne (a'ri-ad'ne), the king's daughter, suc- 
ceeded in slaying the Minotaur. The grateful Athenians preserved the ship 
in which Theseus made his voyage and sent in it every year envoys and a sac- 
rifice to Delos. 

Delos (de'los), a small island of the JEgean, was sacred to the worship of 
Apollo, one of the greatest and most beneficent of the Greek gods, who is 
said to have been born there. The priest of Apollo decked the stern of the 
vessel with garlands before it left port 



PH^DO 419 

Socrates brought to my recollection ; whether I speak myself 
or hear another speak of him. 

Ech. You will have listeners who are of the same mind with 
you, and I hope that you will be as exact as you can. 

Phced. I remember the strange feeling which came over 
me at being with him. For I could hardly believe that I was 
present at the death of a friend, and therefore I did not pity 
him, Echecrates ; his mien and his language were so noble and 
fearless in the hour of death that to me he appeared blessed. I 
thought that in going to the other world he could not be with- 
out a divine call, and that he would be happy, if any man 
ever was, when he arrived there ; and therefore I did not 
pity him as might seem natural at such a time. But neither 
could I feel the pleasure which I usually felt in philosophical 
discourse (for philosophy was the theme of which we spoke). 
I was pleased and I was also pained, because I knew that he 
was soon to die, and this strange mixture of feeling was shared 
by us all ; we were laughing and weeping by turns, espe- 
cially the excitable Apollodorus — you know the sort of man ? 

Ech. Yes. 

Phced. He was quite overcome ; and I myself, and all of us 
were greatly moved. 

Ech. Who were present? 

Phced. Of native Athenians there were, besides Apollo- 
dorus, Critobulus and his father Crito, Hermogenes, Epigenes, 
^Eschines, and Antisthenes ; likewise Ctesippus of the deme 
of Paeania, Menexenus, and some others ; but Plato, if I am 
not mistaken, was ill. 

Ech. Were there any strangers? 

Phced. Yes, there were ; Simmias the Theban, and Cebes, 
and Phaedondes ; Euclid and Terpsion, who came from Megara. 

Ech. And was Aristippus there, and Cleombrotus ? 5 

5 Hermogenes (her-moj'e-nez) ; Epigenes and ^Eschines : mentioned in 
Apology, 33. Antisthenes (an-tis'the-nez) ; Ctesippus : speaker in Euthyde- 
mus ; Menexenus (me-nex'e nus) ; Phasdondes (fe-don'dez) ; Euclid (u'klid) ; 
Terpsion (terp'si-on) ; Aristippus (ar-is-tip'us) ; Cleombrotus (kle-om'bro- 
tus). Of these the most important are Euclid, Aristippus and Antisthenes, 
each of whom founded a school of philosophy. These are called minor 
Socratic schools, because each of them partially represents the teaching and 
spirit of Socrates. Plato perhaps means to censure Cleombrotus and Aristip- 
pus for not being present, although so near (the island ^Egina (e-jl'na) and 
its city of that name being but twenty miles from Athens, southwest). Cicero 
says that Cleombrotus after reading this dialogue killed himself by throwing 
himself into the sea. 



420 PLATO THE TEACHER 

Phced. No, they were said to be in ^gina. 

Ech. Any one else? 

Phced. I think that these were about all. 

Ech. And what was the discourse of which you spoke ? 

Phced. I will begin at the beginning, and endeavor to re- 
peat the entire conversation. You must understand that we 
had been previously in the habit of assembling early in the 
morning at the court in which the trial was held, and which is 
not far from the prison. There we remained talking with one 
another until the opening of the prison doors (for they were not 
opened very early), and then went in and generally passed the 
day with Socrates. On the last morning the meeting was ear- 
lier than usual ; this was owing to our having heard on the 
previous evening that the sacred ship had arrived from Delos, 
and therefore we agreed to meet very early at the accustomed 
place. On our going to the prison, the jailer who answered the 
door, instead of admitting us, came out and bade us wait and 
he would call us. " For the eleven," 6 he said, " are now with 
Socrates ; they are taking off his chains, and giving orders that 
he is to die to-day." He soon returned and said that we might 
. come in. On entering we found Socrates just released 
from chains, and Xanthippe, 7 whom you know, sitting by 
him, and holding his child in her arms. When she saw us she 
uttered a cry and said, as women will : " O Socrates, this is 
the last time that either you will converse with your friends, or 
they with you." Socrates turned to Crito and said : " Crito, 
let some one take her home." Some of Crito's people ac- 
cordingly led her away, crying out and beating herself. And 
when she was gone, Socrates, sitting up on the couch, begsn 
to bend and rub his leg, saying, as he rubbed : How singular 
is the thing called pleasure, and how curiously related to pain, 
which might be thought to be the opposite of it ; for they 

' See Apology, note 45. 

' Xanthippe (zan-fip'pe) : wife of Socrates. Her name has been prover- 
bial in ancient and modern times as that of a shrew. Some find excuse for 
her in her husband's neglect of his private affairs. Xenophon says that her 
son became embittered on account of his mother's severity and that Socrates 
reasoned with the son, reminding him ot the mother's many acts of self-sac- 
rifice for her children. In the incident here related, her grief seems to us 
much more creditable than the indifference of Socrates. Compare John 
xix. 26 and 27: " When Jesus therefore saw his mother and the disciple 
standing by whom he loved, he saith to his mother, Woman, behold thy son ! 
Then saith he to the disciple, Behold thy mother! And from that hour that 
disciple took her unto his own home." 



PH-EDO 421 

never come to a man together, and yet he who pursues either 
of them is generally compelled to take the other. They are 
two, and yet they grow together out of one head or stem ; and 
I cannot help thinking that if .^Esop 3 had noticed them, he 
would have made a fable about God trying to reconcile their 
strife, and when he could not, he fastened their heads together ; 
and this is the reason why when one comes the other follows, 
as I find in my own case pleasure comes following after the 
pain in my leg which was caused by the chain. 

Upon this Cebes said : I am very glad indeed, Socrates, 
that you mentioned the name of ^Esop. For that reminds 
me of a question which had been asked by others, and was 
asked of me only the day before yesterday by Evenus 9 the 
poet, and as he will be sure to ask again, you may as well tell 
me what I should say to him, if you would like him to have an 
answer. He wanted to know why you who never before wrote 
a line of poetry, now that you are in prison are putting yEsop 
into verse, and also composing that hymn in honor of Apollo. 

Tell him, Cebes, he replied, that I had no idea of rivaling 
him or his poems ; which is the truth, for I knew that I could 
not do that. But I wanted to see whether I could purge away 
a scruple which I felt about certain dreams. In the course 
of my life I have often had intimations in dreams "that I 
should make music. " The same dream came to me some- 
times in one form, and sometimes in another, but always say- 
ing the same or nearly the same words : Make and cultivate 
music, said the dream. And hitherto I had imagined that 
this was only intended to exhort and encourage me in the 
study of philosophy, which has always been the pursuit , 
of my life, and is the noblest and best of music. 10 The 
dream was bidding me do what I was already doing, in the 
same way that the competitor in a race is bidden by the 
spectators to run when he is already running. But I was not 
certain of this, as the dream might have meant music in the 
popular sense of the word, and being under sentence of death, 
and the festival giving me a respite, I thought that I should 
be safer if I satisfied the scruple, and, in obedience to the 

6 A famous writer of fables, who lived about 600 B.C. ; probably a native of 
Phrygia in Asia Minor. 
9 See Apology, note 8. 
10 See Republic, II. , note 17. 



422 PLATO THE TEACHER 

dream, composed a few verses before I departed. And first I 
made a hymn in honor of the god of the festival, and then 
considering that a poet, if he is really to be a poet or maker, 11 
should not only put words together but make stories, and as I 
have no invention, I took some fables of JEsop, which I had 
ready at hand and knew, and turned them into verse. Tell 
Evenus this, and bid him be of good cheer ; say that I would 
have him come after me if he be a wise man, and not tarry ; 
and that to-day I am likely to be going, for the Athenians 
say that I must. 

Simmias said : What a message for such a man ! having 
been a frequent companion of his I should say that, as far as 
I know him, he will never take your advice unless he is 
obliged. 

Why, said Socrates. Is not Evenus a philosopher ? 

I think that he is, said Simmias. 

Then he, or any man who has the spirit of philosophy, will 
be willing to die, though he will not take his own life, for that 
is held not to be right. 

Here he changed his position, and put his legs off the couch 
on to the ground, and during the rest of the conversation he 
remained sitting. 

Why do you say, inquired Cebes, that a man ought not to 
take his own life, but that the philosopher will be ready to fol- 
low the dying? 

Socrates replied: And have you, Cebes and Simmias, who 
are acquainted with Philolaus, 12 never heard him speak of 
this? 

I never understood him, Socrates. 

My words, too, are only an echo ; but I am very willing to 
say what I have heard : and indeed, as I am going to another 
place, I ought to be thinking and talking of the nature of the 
pilgrimage which I am about to make. What can I do better 
in the interval between this and the setting of the sun ? 13 

Then tell me, Socrates, why is suicide held not to be right? 
as I have certainly heard Philolaus affirm when he was staying 

11 The Greek word for poet means, literally, maker. 

12 Philolaus (fll-o-la'us) : a distinguished philosopher, a disciple of Pythag- 
oras and the instructor of Simmias and Cebes. See Phsedo, note i, on Sim- 
mias. 

13 Athenian law permitted no executions in the day-time. 



PtLEDO 423 

with us at Thebes 14 ; and there are others who say the same, 
although none of them has ever made me understand , 
him. 

But do your best, replied Socrates, and the day may come 
when you will understand. I suppose that you wonder why, 
as most things which are evil may be accidentally good, this 
is to be the only exception (for may not death, too, be better 
than life in some cases?), and why, when a man is better 
dead, he is not permitted to be his own benefactor, but must 
wait for the hand of another. 

By Jupiter ! 15 yes, indeed, said Cebes laughing, and speak- 
ing in his native Doric. 16 

I admit the appearance of inconsistency, replied Socrates, 
but there may not be any real inconsistency after all in this. 
There is a doctrine uttered in secret 17 that man is a prisoner 
who has no right to open the door of his prison and run 
away ; this is a great mystery which I do not quite under- 
stand. Yet I too believe that the gods are our guardians, 
and that we are a possession of theirs. Do you not agree ? 

Yes, I agree to that, said Cebes. 

And if one of your own possessions, an ox or an ass, for 
example, took the liberty of putting himself out of the way 
when you had given no intimation of your wish that he should 
die, would you not be angry with him, and would you not 
punish him if you could? 

Certainly, replied Cebes. 

Then there may be reason in saying that a man should 
wait, and not take his own life until God summons him, as 
he is now summoning me. 

Yes, Socrates, said Cebes, there is surely reason in that. 
And yet how can you reconcile this seemingly true belief that 
God is our guardian and we his possessions, with that willing- 
ness to die which we were attributing to the philosopher? 
That the wisest of men should be willing to leave this service 
in which they are ruled by the gods who are the best of 
rulers, is not reasonable, for surely no wise man thinks that 
when set at liberty he can take better care of himself than 

14 See Protagoras, note 34. 

15 Jupiter : the chief Roman deity, corresponding to the Greek Zeus. 

16 Doric (dor'ik) : a dialect of the Greek language. 

17 This probably refers to a saying of Pythagoras, whose more important 
teachings were kept secret from all except his disciples. 



424 PLATO THE TEACHER 

the gods take of him. A fool may perhaps think this — he 
may argue that he had better run away from his master, not 
considering that his duty is to remain to the end, and not to 
run away from the good, and that there is no sense in his 
running away. But the wise man will want to be ever with 
him who is better than himself. Now this, Socrates, is the 
reverse of what was just now said ; for upon this view the 
wise man should sorrow and the fool rejoice at passing out of 
life. 

The earnestness of Cebes seemed to please Socrates. Here, 
said he, turning to us, is a man who is always inquiring, and 
, is not to be convinced all in a moment, nor by every 
argument. 

And in this case, added Simmias, his objection does ap- 
pear to me to have some force. For what can be the mean- 
ing of a truly wise man wanting to fly away and lightly leave 
a master who is better than himself. And I rather imagine 
that Cebes is referring to you ; he thinks that you are too 
ready to leave us, and too ready to leave the gods who, as 
you acknowledge, are our good rulers. 

Yes, replied Socrates ; there is reason in that. And this 
indictment you think that I ought to answer as if I were in 
court ? 

That is what we should like, said Simmias. 

Then I must try to make a better impression upon you than 
I did when defending myself before the judges. For I am 
quite ready to acknowledge, Simmias and Cebes, that I ought 
to be grieved at death, if I were not persuaded that I am go- 
ing to other gods who are wise and good (of this I am as cer- 
tain as I can be of anything of the sort), and to men departed 
(though I am not so certain of this) who are better than those 
whom I leave behind ; and therefore I do not grieve as I 
might have done, for I have good hope that there is yet 
something remaining for the dead, and as has been said of 
old, some far better thing for the good than for the evil. 

But do you mean to take away your thoughts with you, 
Socrates, said Simmias ? Will you not communicate them to 
us ? — the benefit is one in which we too may hope to share. 
Moreover, if you succeed in convincing us, that will be an 
answer to the charge against yourself. 

I will do my best, replied Socrates. But you must first let 



PH^DO 425 

me hear what Crito wants ; he was going to say something to 
me. 

Only this, Socrates, replied Crito : the attendant who is to 
give you the poison has been telling me that you are not to 
talk much, and he wants me to let you know this ; for that by 
talking, heat is increased, and this interferes with the action 
of the poison ; those who excite themselves are sometimes 
obliged to drink the poison two or three times. 

Then, said Socrates, let him mind his business and be pre- 
pared to give the poison two or three times, if necessary ; 
that is all. 

I was almost certain that you would say that, replied 
Crito ; but I was obliged to satisfy him. 

Never mind him, he said. 

And now I will make answer to you, O my judges, and 
show that he who has lived as a true philosopher has reason to 
be of good cheer when he is about to die, and that after 
death he may hope to receive the greatest good in the 
other world. And how this may be, Simmias and Cebes, I will 
endeavor to explain. For I deem that the true disciple of 
philosophy is likely to be misunderstood by other men ; they 
do not perceive that he is ever pursuing death and dying ; 
and if this is true, why, having had the desire of death all his 
life long, should he repine at the arrival of that which he has 
been always pursuing and desiring ? 

Simmias laughed and said : Though not in a laughing hu- 
mor, I swear that I cannot help laughing, when I think what 
the wicked world will say when they hear this. They will 
say that this is very true, and our people at home will agree 
with them in saying that the life which philosophers desire is 
truly death, and that they have found them out to be deserv- 
ing of the death which they desire. 

And they are right, Simmias, in saying this, with the ex- 
ception of the words " They have found them out," for they 
have not found out what is the nature of this death which the 
true philosopher desires, or how he deserves or desires death. 
But let us leave them and have a word with ourselves : Do we 
believe that there is such a thing as death ? 

To be sure, replied Simmias. 

And is this anything but the separation of soul and body? 
And being dead is the attainment of this separation when the 



426 PLATO THE TEACHER 

soul exists in herself, and is parted from the body and the 
body is parted from the soul — that is death ? 

Exactly : that and nothing else, he replied. 

And what do you say of another question, my friend, about 
which I should like to have your opinion, and the answer to 
which will probably throw light on our present inquiry : Do 
you think that the philosopher ought to care about the pleas- 
ures — if they are to be called pleasures — of eating and drink- 
ing ? 

Certainly not, answered Simmias. 

And what do you say of the pleasures of love — should he 
care about them ? 

By no means. 

And will he think much of the other ways of indulging the 
body, for example, the acquisition of costly raiment, or san- 
dals, or other adornments of the body? Instead of caring 
about them, does he not rather despise anything more than 
nature needs ? What do you say ? 

I should say that the true philosopher would despise them. 

Would you not say that he is entirely concerned with the 
soul and not with the body ? He would like, as far as he 
can, to be quit of the body and turn to the soul. 

That is true. 

In matters of this sort philosophers, above all other men, 
may be observed in every sort of way to dissever the soul 
from the body. 

That is true. 

Whereas, Simmias, the rest of the world are of opinion that 
, a life which has no bodily pleasures and no part in them 
is not worth having ; but that he who thinks nothing 
of bodily pleasures is almost as though he were dead. 

That is quite true. 

What again shall we say of the actual acquirement of knowl- 
edge? — is the body, if invited to share in the inquiry, a hin- 
derer or a helper? I mean to say, have sight and hearing 
any truth in them? Are they not, as the poets are always 
telling us, inaccurate witnesses ? and yet, if even they are in- 
accurate and indistinct, what is to be said of the other senses ? 
— for you will allow that they are the best of them ? 

Certainly, he replied. 

Then when does the soul attain truth ? — for in attempting 



PH^ZDO 427 

to consider anything in company with the body she is ob- 
viously deceived. 

Yes, that is true. 

Then must not existence be revealed to her in thought, if 
at all? 

Yes. 

And thought is best when the mind is gathered into her- 
self and none of these things trouble her — neither sounds nor 
sights nor pain nor any pleasure, — when she has as little as 
possible to do with the body, and has no bodily sense or feel- 
ing, but is aspiring after being ? 

That is true. 

And in this the philosopher dishonors the body ; his soul 
runs away from the body and desires to be alone and by her- 
self? 

That is true. 

Well, but there is another thing, Simmias : Is there or is 
there not an absolute justice ? 

Assuredly there is. 

And an absolute beauty and absolute good ? 

Of course. 

But did you ever behold any of them with your eyes ? 

Certainly not. 

Or did you ever reach them with any other bodily sense ? 
(and I speak not of these alone, but of absolute greatness, and 
health, and strength, and of the essence or true nature of 
everything). Has the reality of them ever been perceived by 
you through the bodily organs ? or rather, is not the nearest 
approach to the knowledge of their several natures made by 
him who so orders his intellectual vision as to have the most 
exact conception of the essence of that which he considers ? 

Certainly. 

And he attains to the knowledge of them in their highest 
purity who goes to each of them with the mind alone, not 
allowing when in the act of thought the intrusion or ,, 
introduction of sight or any other sense in the company 
of reason, but with the very light of the mind in her clear- 
ness penetrates into the very light of truth in each ; he has 
got rid, as far as he can, of eyes and ears and of the whole 
body, which he conceives of only as a disturbing element, 
hindering the soul from the acquisition of knowledge when in 



428 PLATO THE TEACHER 

company with her — is not this the sort of man who, if ever 
man did, is likely to attain the knowledge of existence? 

There is admirable truth in that, Socrates, replied Simmias. 

And when they consider ail this, must not true philoso- 
phers make a reflection, of which they will speak to one 
another in such words as these : We have found, they will 
say, a path of speculation which seems to bring us and the 
argument to the conclusion, that while we are in the body, 
and while the soul is mingled with this mass of evil, our de- 
sire will not be satisfied, and our desire is of the truth. For 
the body is a source of endless trouble to us by reason of the 
mere requirement of food ; and also is liable to diseases which 
overtake and impede us in the search after truth : and by 
filling us so full of loves, and lusts, and fears, and fancies, 
and idols, and every sort of folly, prevents our ever having, 
as people say, so much as a thought. For whence come 
wars, and fightings, and factions? whence but from the body 
and the lusts of the body ? For wars are occasioned by the 
love of money, and money has to be acquired for the sake 
and in the service of the body ; and in consequence of all 
these things the time which ought to be given to philosophy 
is lost. Moreover, if there is time and an inclination tow- 
ard philosophy, yet the body introduces a turmoil and con- 
fusion and fear into the course of speculation, and hinders us 
from seeing the truth ; and all experience shows that if we 
would have pure knowledge of anything we must be quit of 
the body, and the soul in herself must behold all things in 
themselves : then I suppose that we shall attain that which 
we desire, and of which we say that we are lovers, and that 
is wisdom; not while we live, but after death, as the argu- 
ment shows ; for if while in company with the body, the soul 
cannot have pure knowledge, one of two things seems to fol- 
low — either knowledge is not to be attained at all, or, if at 
, all, after death. For then, and not till then, the soul 
will be in herself alone and without the body. In this 
present life, I reckon that we make the nearest approach to 
knowledge when we have the least possible concern or in- 
terest in the body, and are not saturated with the bodily 
nature, but remain pure until the hour when God himself is 
pleased to release us. And then the foolishness of the body 
will be cleared away and we shall be pure and hold converse 



PHiEDO 429 

with other pure souls, and know of ourselves the clear light 
everywhere ; and this is surely the light of truth. For no 
impure thing is allowed to approach the pure. These are the 
sort of words, Simmias, which the true lovers of wisdom can- 
not help saying to one another, and thinking. You will 
agree with me in that ? 

Certainly, Socrates. 

But if this is true, O my friend, then there is great hope 
that, going whither I go, I shall there be satisfied with that 
which has been the chief concern of you and me in our past 
lives. And now that the hour of departure is appointed to 
me, this is the hope with which I depart, and not I only, 
but every man who believes that he has his mind purified. 

Certainly, replied Simmias. 

And what is purification but the separation of the soul from 
the body, as I was saying before ; the habit of the soul gather- 
ing and collecting herself into herself, out of all the courses 
of the body; the dwelling in her own place alone, as in an- 
other life, so also in this, as far as she can ; the release of 
the soul from the chains of the body ? 

Very true, he said. 

And what is that which is termed death, but this very sep- 
aration and release of the soul from the body? 

To be sure, he said. 

And the true philosophers, and they only, study and are 
eager to release the soul. Is not the separation and release of 
the soul from the body their especial study? 

That is true. 

And as I was saying at first, there would be a ridiculous 
contradiction in men studying to live as nearly as they can in 
a state of death, and yet repining when death comes. 

Certainly. 

Then Simmias, as the true philosophers are ever studying 
death, to them, of all men, death is the least terrible. Look 
at the matter in this way : how inconsistent of them to have 
been always enemies of the body, and wanting to have the 
soul alone, and when this is granted to them, to be trembling 
and repining ; instead of rejoicing at their departing to .~ 
that place where, when they arrive, they hope to gain 
that which in life they loved (and this was wisdom), and at 
the same time to be rid of the company of their enemy. 



430 PLATO THE TEACHER 

Many a man has been willing to go to the world below in 
the hope of seeing there an earthly love, or wife, or son, and 
conversing with them. And will he who is a true lover of 
wisdom, and is persuaded in like manner that only in the 
world below he can worthily enjoy her, still repine at death ? 
Will he not depart with joy ? Surely, he will, my friend, if 
he be a true philosopher. For he will have a firm conviction 
that there only, and nowhere else, he can find wisdom in her 
purity. And if this be true, he would be very absurd, as I 
was saying, if he were to fear death. 

He would indeed, replied Simmias. 

And when you see a man who is repining at the approach 
of death, is not his reluctance a sufficient proof that he is not 
a lover of wisdom, but a lover of the body, and probably at 
the same time a lover of either money or power, or both ? 

That is very true, he replied. 

There is a virtue, Simmias, which is named courage. Is 
not that a special attribute of the philosopher ? 

Certainly. 

Again, there is temperance. Is not the calm, and control, 
and disdain of the passions which even the many call tem- 
perance, a quality belonging only to those who despise the 
body, and live in philosophy? 

That is not to be denied. 

For the courage and temperance of other men, if you will 
consider them, are really a contradiction. 

How is that, Socrates ? 

Well, he said, you are aware that death is regarded by men 
in general as a great evil. 

That is true, he said. 

And do not courageous men endure death because they are 
afraid of yet greater evils ? 

That is true. 

Then all but the philosophers are courageous only from fear, 
and because they are afraid ; and yet that a man should be 
courageous from fear, and because he is a coward, is surely a 
strange thing. 

Very true. 

And are not the temperate exactly in the same case ? They 
are temperate because they are intemperate, — which may seem 
to be a contradiction, but is nevertheless the sort of thing which 



PH^DO 431 

happens with this foolish temperance. For there are pleasures 
which they must have, and are afraid of losing ; and therefore 
they abstain from one class of pleasures because they are over- 
come by another: and whereas intemperance is defined as , 
" being under the dominion of pleasure," they overcome 
only because they are overcome by pleasure. And that is what I 
mean by saying that they are temperate through intemperance. 

That appears to be true. 

Yet the exchange of one fear or pleasure or pain for another 
fear or pleasure or pain, which are measured like coins, the 
greater with the less, is not the exchange of virtue. O my 
dear Simmias, is there not one true coin for which all things 
ought to exchange? — and that is wisdom 18 ; and only in ex- 
change for this, and in company with this, is anything truly 
bought or sold, whether courage or temperance or justice. And 
is not all true virtue the companion of wisdom, no matter what 
fears or pleasures or other similar goods or evils may or may 
not attend her ? But the virtue which is made up of these 
goods, when they are severed from wisdom and exchanged with 
one another, is a shadow of virtue only, nor is there any free- 
dom or health or truth in her ; but in the true exchange there 
is a purging away of all these things, and temperance, and jus- 
tice, and courage, and wisdom herself, are a purgation of them. 
And I conceive that the founders of the mysteries 19 had a real 
meaning and were not mere triflers when they intimated in a 
figure long ago that he who passed unsanctified and uninitiated 
into the world below will live in a slough, but that he who ar- 
rives there after initiation and purification will dwell with the 
gods. For "many," as they say in the mysteries, "are the 
thyrsus-bearers, but few are the mystics," 20 — meaning, as I 

18 Compare Isaiah lv. 2 : "Wherefore do ye spend money for that which is 
not bread and your labor for that which satisfieth not." Compare also Pro- 
tagoras, 349-360. 

Also Matt. xiii. 45 and 46 : " Again the kingdom of heaven is like unto 
a merchantman, seeking goodly pearls : who, when he had found one pearl 
of great price, went and sold all that he had, and bought it." 

la See Symposium, note 32. 

2D Dionysus or Bacchus, god of wine, was one of the gods in whose worship 
mysteries were employed. His devotees carried a wand or thyrsus. Among 
these wand-bearers were many whose participation in the rites was merely 
formal, in comparison with whom the true worshippers were few. Hence 
arose the proverb quoted by Socrates. According to his interpretation, only 
philosophers are completely purified and initiated into an understanding of 
divine things. Compare Matt. xxii. 14 : " For many are called but few are 
chosen." 



432 PLATO THE TEACHER 

interpret the words, the true philosophers. In the number of 
whom I have been seeking, according to my ability, to find a 
place during my whole life ; whether I have sought in a right 
way or not, and whether I have succeeded or not, I shall truly 
know in a little while, if God will, when I myself arrive in the 
other world : that is my belief. And now Simmias and Cebes, 
I have answered those who charge me with not grieving or re- 
pining at parting from you and my masters in this world ; and 
I am right in not repining, for I believe that I shall find other 
masters and friends who are as good in the world below. But 
all men cannot receive this, and I shall be glad if my words 
have any more success with you than with the judges of Athe- 
nians. 

Cebes answered : I agree, Socrates, in the greater part of 
what you say. But in what relates to the soul, men are apt to 
be incredulous ; they fear that when she leaves the body 
her place may be nowhere, and that on the very day of 
death she may be destroyed and perish, — immediately on her 
release from the body, issuing forth like smoke or air and van- 
ishing away into nothingness. For if she could only hold to- 
gether and be herself after she was released from the evils of 
the body, there would be good reason to hope, Socrates, that 
what you say is true. But much persuasion and many argu- 
ments are required in order to prove that when the man is dead 
the soul yet exists, and has any force or intelligence. 

True, Cebes, said Socrates ; and shall I suggest that we talk 
a little of the probabilities of these things? 

I am sure, said Cebes, that I should greatly like to know 
your opinion about them. 

I reckon, said Socrates, that no one who heard me now, not 
even if he were one of my old enemies, the comic poets, 21 could 
accuse me of idle talking about matters in which I have no 
concern. Let us then, if you please, proceed with the in- 
quiry. 

[Socrates recalls an ancient doctrine that the souls of men 
pass after death into the other world, whence they return and 

21 See Apology, note 5. Eupolis (Q'p5-lis), another comic poet of the day, 
said of Socrates : " I hate Socrates, that prating beggar, who pays great at- 
tention, forsooth, to all these other things, but as to how withal he shall be fed, 
to this he gives no heed at all." Other instances also are known of the en- 
mity of the poets for Socrates. 



pil^edo 433 

are born again into this world. This generation of the living 
from the dead is analogous to other processes in nature. Just 
as sleeping passes into waking and waking into sleeping, 
as the greater becomes the less and the less grows into ^°" 
the greater, as all opposites pass, the one into the other, 
so life passes into death and death again becomes life. To 
complete the circle of nature it is necessary that death should 
generate life.] 

My dear Cebes, if all things which partook of life were to 
die, and after they were dead remained in the form of death, 
and did not come to life again, all would at last die, and 
nothing would be alive — how could this be otherwise ? For 
if the living spring from any others who are not the dead, and 
they die, must not all things at last be swallowed up in death? 

There is no escape from that, Socrates, said Cebes ; and I 
think that what you say is entirely true. 

Yes, he said, Cebes, I entirely think so too ; and we are 
not walking in a vain imagination : but I am confident in the 
belief that there truly is such a thing as living again, and that 
the living spring from the dead, and that the souls of the dead 
are in existence, and that the good souls have a better portion 
than the evil. 

Cebes added : Your favorite doctrine, Socrates, that knowl- 
edge is simply recollection, if true, also necessarily implies a 
previous time in which we learned that which we now 
recollect. But this would be impossible unless our soul 
was in some place before existing in the human form ,& ; here 
then is another argument of the soul's immortality. 

But tell me, Cebes, said Simmias interposing, what proofs 
are given of this doctrine of recollection ? I am not very sure 
at this moment that I remember them. 

One excellent proof, said Cebes, is afforded by questions. 
If you put a question to a person in a right way, he will give 

22 " Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting ; 
The soul that rises with us, our life's star, 
Hath had elsewhere its setting, 
And cometh from afar. 
Not in entire forgetfulness, 
And not in utter nakedness, 
But trailing clouds of glory, do we come 
From God, who is our home." 

— Wordsworth's " Intimations of Immortality." 

28 



434 PLATO THE TEACHER 

a true answer of himself, but how could he do this unless t'nere 
were knowledge and right reason already in him ? And this 
is most clearly shown when he is taken to a diagram a or to 
anything of that sort. 

But if, said Socrates, you are still incredulous, Simmias, I 
would ask you whether you may not agree with me when you 
look at the matter in another way; I mean, if you are still 
incredulous as to whether knowledge is recollection ? 

Incredulous, I am not, said Simmias ; but I want to have 
this doctrine of recollection brought to my own recollection, 
and, from what Cebes has said, I am beginning to recollect 
and be convinced : but I should still like to hear what more 
you have to say. 

[Socrates gives a proof of the doctrine as follows : What we 
recollect we must have known at some previous time. This 

recollection is due to a power of mind called association. 
73=* For example, a lyre or a garment may remind us of the 

person who has used the one or worn the other. Simmias 
may make us think of Cebes because they are frequently in one 
another's company. Likewise, the imperfect equality of two 
pieces of wood or stone suggests the idea of perfect equality. 
Indeed we must have the standard of perfect equality before 
we can compare two things. Now where did we get our idea 
of perfect equality. Surely not through our experience with 
material objects in this life, for no two material objects are 
absolutely alike. Their appearance is changing and they serve 
only to recall the idea of absolute likeness which is ever the 
same. Moreover the knowledge of perfect equality is not 
given to us at birth, for all men do not possess it. It comes 
to none save by a process of remembering, and what we call 
learning is only recollection. Clearly then, our knowledge 
of perfect equality and likewise of perfect beauty, perfect 
goodness, perfect justice, and the like must have been acquired 
by us before we came into this world. Therefore our souls 
must have existed and had intelligence before birth.] 

23 In a passage from Plato's Meno, which is often quoted in educational 
journals to illustrate the Socratic method of questioning, a slave boy who 
cannot read, answers "of himself," a series of simple questions about a 
geometrical diagram. The boy is led in this way to see for himself the 
truth of a certain geometrical proposition. Socrates argues that since the 
boy has not learned these things in this life, he must be remembering them 
from a former life. 



PH/EDO 435 

Then may we not say, Simmias, that if, as we are always 
repeating, there is an absolute beauty, and goodness, and es- 
sence in general, and to this, which is now discovered to be 
a previous condition of our being, we refer all our sensations, 
and with this compare them — assuming this to have a prior 
existence, then our souls must have had a prior existence, but 
if not, there would be no force in the argument. There can 
be no doubt that if these absolute ideas existed before we were 
born, then our souls must have existed before we were born, 
and if not the ideas, then not the souls. 

Yes, Socrates ; I am convinced that there is precisely the 
same necessity for the existence of the soul before birth, and 
of the essence of which you are speaking : and the ar- 
gument arrives at a result which happily agrees with my 
own notion. For there is nothing which to my mind is so 
evident as that beauty, good, and other notions of which you 
were just now speaking, have a most real and absolute exist- 
ence ; and I am satisfied with the proof. 

Well, but is Cebes equally satisfied ? for I must convince 
him too. 

I think, said Simmias, that Cebes is satisfied : although he 
is the most incredulous of mortals, yet I believe that he is 
convinced of the existence of the soul before birth. But that 
after death the soul will continue to exist is not yet proven 
even to my own satisfaction. I cannot get rid of the feeling 
of the many to which Cebes was referring — the feeling that 
when the man dies the soul may be scattered, and that this 
may be the end of her. For admitting that she may be gen- 
erated and created in some other place, and may have existed 
before entering the human body, why after having entered in 
and gone out again may she not herself be destroyed and 
come to an end ? 

Very true, Simmias, said Cebes ; that our soul existed be- 
fore we were born was the first half of the argument, and this 
appears to have been proven ; that the soul will exist after 
death as well as before birth is the other half of which the 
proof is still wanting, and has to be supplied. 

But that proof, Simmias and Cebes, has been already given, 
said Socrates, if you put the two arguments together — I mean 
this and the former one, in which we admitted that every- 
thing living is born of the dead. For if the soul existed be- 



436 PLATO THE TEACHER 

fore birth, and in coming to life and being born can be born 
only from death and dying, must she not after death continue 
to exist, since she has to be born again ? surely the proof 
which you desire has been already furnished. Still I suspect 
that you and Simmias would be glad to probe the argument 
further ; like children, you are haunted with a fear that when 
the soul leaves the body, the wind may really blow her away 
and scatter her ; especially if a man should happen to die in 
stormy weather and not when the sky is calm. 

Cebes answered with a smile : Then, Socrates, you must 
argue us out of our fears — and yet, strictly speaking, they are 
not our fears, but there is a child within us to whom death is 
a sort of hobgoblin ; him too we must persuade not to be 
afraid when he is alone with him in the dark. 

Socrates said : Let the voice of the charmer 2i be applied 
daily until you have charmed him away. 

And where shall we find a good charmer of our fears, Soc- 
rates, when you are gone ? 

Hellas, he replied, is a large place, Cebes, and has many 

good men, and there are barbarous races not a few : seek for 

8 him among them all, far and wide, sparing neither pains 

nor money ; for there is no better way of using your 

money. And you must not forget to seek for him among 

yourselves too ; for he is nowhere more likely to be found. 

The search, replied Cebes, shall certainly be made. And 
now, if you please, let us return to the point of the argument 
at which we digressed. 

[Socrates leads the discussion. Another argument against 
the dissolution of the soul at death is found in the nature of 

the soul itself. Only those things which are compound 
^ " or composite, like the objects of sense, are naturally 

capable of being dissolved and changed. But the soul, 
not being compound is indivisible and therefore indestructi- 
ble. It belongs to that class of unchanging things which are 
also invisible like the essence of beauty or equality. It is only 
when the soul makes use of the senses that she is dragged by 
the body down into the region of changeable things.] 

24 As incantations are employed against hobgoblins, wise words must be 
the charm against foolish fears. In another dialogue Plato speaks of the 
soul being healed by the charm of fair words. 



ph^do 437 

But when returning into herself she reflects ; then she passes 
into the realm of purity, and eternity, and immortality, and 
unchangeableness, which are her kindred, and with them she 
ever lives, when she is by herself and is not let or hindered ; 
then she ceases from her erring ways, and being in commun- 
ion with the unchanging is unchanging. And this state of the 
soul is called wisdom ? 

[Again when we compare the functions of the soul and body 
we find that the soul is akin to the divine and the body to the 
mortal. For the soul rules and governs, the body obeys and 
serves.] 

The soul is in the very likeness of the divine, and im- 
mortal, and intelligible, and uniform, and indissoluble, and 
unchangeable ; and the body is in the very likeness of the 
human, and mortal, and unintelligible, and multiform, and 
dissoluble, and changeable. 

[Even the body may be preserved almost entire for ages by 
the embalmer's art.] 

And are we to suppose that the soul, which is invisible, in 
passing to the true Hades, which like her is invisible, and pure, 
and noble, and on her way to the good and wise God, 25 
whither, if God will, my soul is also soon to go, — that the 
soul, I repeat, if this be her nature and origin, is blown away 
and perishes immediately on quitting the body, as the many 
say ? That can never be, my dear Simmias and Cebes. The 
truth rather is, that the soul which is pure at departing draws 
after her no bodily taint, having never voluntarily had con- 
nection with the body, which she is ever avoiding, herself 
gathered into herself (for such abstraction has been the study 
of her life). And what does this mean but that she has been 
a true disciple of philosophy, and has practiced how to die 
easily ? And is not philosophy the practice of death ? g 

Certainly. 

That soul, I say, herself invisible, departs to the invisible 
world, — to the divine and immortal and rational : thither ar- 
riving, she lives in bliss and is released from the error and folly 

25 " And the spirit shall return unto God who gave it." — EccL xii. 7. 



433 PLATO THE TEACHER 

of men, their fears and wild passions and all other human ills, 
and forever dwells, as they say of the initiated, in company 
with the gods ? Is not this true, Cebes ? 

Yes, said Cebes, beyond a doubt. 

But the soul which has been polluted, and is impure at the 
time of her departure, and is the companion and servant of the 
body always, and is in love with and fascinated by the body 
and by the desires and pleasures of the body, until she is led 
to believe that the truth only exists in a bodily form, which a 
man may touch and see and taste and use for the purposes of 
his lusts, — the soul, I mean, accustomed to hate and fear and 
avoid the intellectual principle, which to the bodily eye is 
dark and invisible, and can be attained only by philosophy ; 
do you suppose that such a soul as this will depart pure and 
unalloyed ? 

That is impossible, he replied. 

She is engrossed by the corporeal, which the continual as- 
sociation and constant care of the body have made natural to 
her. 

[The souls of the wicked, loath to leave the body and fearful 
of the world below, must wander about tombs 26 until 

^ = they are imprisoned in another body. And some enter 
the bodies of birds or animals which have natures like 

their own. Others which are less evil pass again into the 

forms of men.] 

But he who is a philosopher or lover of learning, and is en- 
tirely pure at departing, is alone permitted to reach the gods. 27 
And this is the reason, Simmias and Cebes, why the true 
votaries of philosophy abstain from all fleshly lusts, and endure 
and refuse to give themselves up to them, — not because they 
fear poverty or the ruin of their families, like the lovers of 

26 " The soul grows clotted by contagion, 

Imbodies, and imbrutes, till she quite lose 
The divine property of her first being. 
Such are those thick and gloomy shadows damp 
Oft seen in charnel vaults and sepulchres 
Lingering and sitting by a new-made grave 
As loath to leave the body that it loved, 
And linked itself by carnal sensuality 
To a degenerate and degraded state." 

— Milton s " Comus." 

27 Compare Phaedrus, 249. 



ph^do 439 

money, and the world in general ; nor like the lovers of 
power and honor, because they dread the dishonor or disgrace 
of evil deeds. 

No, Socrates, that would not become them, said Cebes. 

Xo indeed, he replied ; and therefore they who have a care 
of their souls, and do not merely live in the fashions of the 
body, say farewell to all this ; they will not walk in the ways 
of the blind : and when Philosophy offers them purification 
and release from evil, they feel that they ought not to resist 
her influence, and to her they incline, and whither she leads 
they follow her. 

What do you mean, Socrates? 

I will tell you, he said. The lovers of knowledge are con- 
scious that their souls, when philosophy receives them, are 
simply fastened and glued to their bodies : the soul is only able 
to view existence through the bars of a prison, 28 and not in 
her own nature ; she is wallowing in the mire of all ignorance ; 
and philosophy, seeing the terrible nature of her confinement, 
and that the captive through desire is led to conspire in _ 
her own captivity (for the lovers of knowledge are aware 
that this was the original state of the soul, and that when she 
was in this state philosophy received and gently counseled 
her, and wanted to release her, pointing out to her that the 
eye is full of deceit, and also the ear and the other senses, and 
persuading her to retire from them in all but the necessary 
use of them, and to be gathered up and collected into herself, 
and to trust only to herself and her own intuitions of absolute 
existence, and mistrust that which comes to her through others 
and is subject to vicissitude) — philosophy shows her that this 
is visible and tangible, but that what she sees in her own 
nature is intellectual and invisible. And the soul of the true 
philosopher thinks that she ought not to resist this deliverance, 
and therefore abstains from pleasures and desires and pains 
and fears, as far as she is able ; reflecting that when a man has 
great joys or sorrows or fears or desires, he suffers from them, 
not the sort of evil which might be anticipated — as for exam- 
ple, the loss of his health or property which he has sacrificed 
to his lusts — but he has suffered an evil greater far, which is the 
greatest and worst of all evils, and one of which he never thinks. 

29 " For now we see through a glass darkly." — i Cor. xiii. 12. Compare 
Rep., VII., 514 and following. 



440 PLATO THE TEACHER 

And what is that, Socrates? said Cebes. 

Why this : When the feeling of pleasure or pain in the soul 
is most intense, all of us naturally suppose that the object of 
this intense feeling is then plainest and truest : but this is not 
the case. 

Very true. 

And this is the state in which the soul is most inthralled by 
the body. 

How is that? 

Why, because each pleasure and pain is a sort of nail 
which nails and rivets the soul to the body, and engrosses her 
and makes her believe that to be true which the body affirms 
to be true ; and from agreeing with the body and having the 
same delights she is obliged to have the same habits and 
ways, and is not likely ever to be pure at her departure to 
the world below, but is always saturated with the body ; so 
that she soon sinks into another body and there germinates 
and grows, and has therefore no part in the communion of the 
divine and pure and simple. 

That is most true, Socrates, answered Cebes. 

And this, Cebes, is the reason why the true lovers of knowl- 
edge are temperate and brave ; and not for the reason which 
the world gives. 
R Certainly not. 

4 Certainly not ! For not in that way does the soul of a 
philosopher reason ; she will not ask philosophy to release her 
in order that when released she may deliver herself up again to 
the thralldom of pleasures and pains, doing a work only to be 
undone again, weaving instead of unweaving her Penelope's 
web. 29 But she will make herself a calm of passion, and follow 
Reason, and dwell in her, beholding the true and divine 
(which is not matter of opinion), and thence derive nourish- 
ment. Thus she seeks to live while she lives, and after death 
she hopes to go to her own kindred and to be freed from hu- 
man ills. Never fear, Simmias and Cebes, that a soul which 
has been thus nourished and has had these pursuits, will at her 
departure from the body be scattered and blown away by the 
winds and be nowhere and nothing. 

29 Penelope (pe-nel'6-pe) : wife of the legendary hero Odysseus. During 
his absence at the Trojan War she was beset by many suitors. To put them 
off, she promised to make choice as soon as she finished a web she was 
weaving ; but each night she unraveled what she wove during the day. 



PH/EDO 441 

When Socrates had done speaking, for a considerable time 
there was silence ; he himself and most of us appeared to be 
meditating on what had been said ; only Cebes and Simmias 
spoke a few words to one another. And Socrates observing 
this asked them what they thought of the argument, and 
whether there was anything wanting ? For, said he, much is 
still open to suspicion and attack, if any one were disposed to 
sift the matter thoroughly. If you are talking of something 
else I would rather not interrupt you, but if you are still 
doubtful about the argument do not hesitate to say exactly 
what you think, and let us have anything better which you 
can suggest ; and if I am likely to be of any use, allow me to 
help you. 

Simmias said : I must confess, Socrates, that doubts did 
arise in our minds, and each of us was urging and inciting the 
other to put the question which we wanted to have answered 
and which neither of us liked to ask, fearing that our impor- 
tunity might be troublesome under present circumstances. 

Socrates smiled, and said : O Simmias, how strange that is ; 
I am not very likely to persuade other men that I do not re- 
gard my present situation as a misfortune, if I am unable to 
persuade you, and you will keep fancying that I am at all 
more troubled now than at any other time. Will you not allow 
that I have as much of the spirit of prophecy in me as the 
swans ? M For they, when they perceive that they must die, 
having sung all their life long, do then sing more than ~ 
ever, rejoicing in the thought that they are about to go 
away to the god whose ministers they are. But men, because 
they are themselves afraid of death, slanderously affirm of the 
swans that they sing a lament at the last, not considering that 
no bird sings when cold, or hungry, or in pain, not even the 
nightingale, nor the swallow, nor yet the hoopoe ; which are 
said indeed to tune a lay of sorrow, although I do not believe 
this to be true of them any more than of the swans. But be- 
cause they are sacred to Apollo and have the gift of proph- 
ecy and anticipate the good things of another world, there- 
fore they sing and rejoice in that day more than they ever did 
before. And I too, believing myself to be the consecrated 

30 The swan was sacred to Apollo and said to be gifted with the power of 
song and of prophecy. The myth of the swan's dying song has come down 
to modern times. 



442 PLATO THE TEACHER 

servant of the same God, and the fellow-servant of the swans, 
and thinking that I have received from my master gifts of 
prophecy which are not inferior to theirs, would not go out of 
life less merrily than the swans. Cease to mind then about 
this, but speak and ask anything which you like, while the 
eleven magistrates of Athens allow. 

[Since Socrates is so willing to continue the discussion, 
Simmias and Cebes state their difficulties, — Simmias first as 
follows : One may say that harmony is invisible, in- 
g^ 3 " corporeal, perfect, and divine ; yet when the lyre is 
destroyed, the harmony ceases. How then can the soul 
which has the same relation to the body as harmony to the 
lyre, survive the body ? 

Cebes also uses a figure to express his doubt. It is reason- 
able to say that a man lasts longer than the garment which 
he wears. And yet a wearer, though he may make and wear 
out many coats is himself outlived by the last. Now the body 
is the garment of the soul ; and the soul may wear out many 
bodies in one life and many more in the successive lives into 
which it is born. But how can we prove that the soul may 
not become weary and at last utterly perish in one of its 
deaths, and so be outlived by the last body? 

Here Phsedo interrupts the narration of his story to say to 
Echecrates :] 

All of us, as we afterwards remarked to one another, had an 
unpleasant feeling at hearing them say this. When we had 
been so firmly convinced before, now to have our faith shaken 
seemed to introduce a confusion and uncertainty, not only 
into the previous argument, but into any future one; either 
we were not good judges, or there were no real grounds of 
belief. 

Ech. There I feel with you — indeed I do, Phaedo, and when 
you were speaking, I was beginning to ask myself the same 
question : What argument can I ever trust again ? For what 
could be more convincing than the argument of Socrates, 
which has now fallen into discredit? That the soul is a har- 
mony is a doctrine which has always had a wonderful attrac- 
tion for me, and, when mentioned, came back to me at once, 
as my own original conviction. And now I must begin 



ph^do 443 

again and find another argument which will assure me that 
when the man is dead the soul dies not with him. Tell me, I 
beg, how did Socrates proceed ? Did he appear to share the 
unpleasant feeling which you mention ? or did he receive the 
interruption calmly and give a sufficient answer ? Tell us, as 
exactly as you can, what passed. 

Phced. Often, Echecrates, as I have admired Socrates, I 
never admired him more than at that moment. That he g 
should be able to answer was nothing, but what aston- 
ished me was, first, the gentle and pleasant and approving 
manner in which he regarded the words of the young men, 
and then his quick sense of the wound which had been inflicted 
by the argument, and his ready application of the healing art. 
He might be compared to a general rallying his defeated and 
broken army, urging them to follow him and return to the 
field of argument. 

Ech. How was that ? 

Phced. You shall hear, for I was close to him on his right 
hand, seated on a sort of stool, and he on a couch which was 
a good deal higher. Now he had a way of playing with my 
hair, and then he smoothed my head, and pressed the hair 
upon my neck, and said : To-morrow, Phsedo, I suppose that 
these fair locks of yours will be severed. 31 

Yes, Socrates, I suppose that they will, I replied. 

Not so, if you will take my advice. 

What shall I do with them ? I said. 

To-day, he replied, and not to-morrow, if this argument 
dies and cannot be brought to life again by us, you and I will 
both shave our locks : and if I were you, and could not main- 
tain my ground against Simmias and Cebes, I would myself 
take an oath, like the Argives, not to wear hair any more until 
I had renewed the conflict and defeated them. 32 

Yes, I said, but Heracles himself is said not to be a match 
for two. 33 

31 As a token of mourning, according to the custom. 

32 Argives (ar'jlvz) : a branch of the Greek people inhabiting a small dis- 
trict of Greece, south-west of Athens. Herodicus tells how once when the 
Argives were defeated, and lost a city in war, they took an oath not to cut 
their hair till their loss had been retrieved. 

33 See Euthydemus, note 20. One of his labors was the destroying of the 
Hydra, a monstrous water-snake. While fighting with this he was attacked 
by a crab and was compelled to call on Iolaus (Y'o-laus), his nephew, for help. 
Hence the proverb — Heracles is not a match for two. 



444 PLATO THE TEACHER 

Summon me then, he said, and I will be your Iolaus until 
the sun goes down. 

I summon you rather, I said, not as Heracles summoning 
Iolaus, but as Iolaus might summon Heracles. 

That will be all the same, he said. But first let us take 
care that we avoid a danger. 

And what is that ? I said. 

The.danger of becoming misologists, he replied, which is one 
of the very worst things that can happen to us. For as there 
are misanthropists or haters of men, there are also misologists 
or haters of ideas, and both spring from the same cause, which 
is ignorance of the world. Misanthropy arises from the too 
great confidence of inexperience ; you trust a man and think 
him altogether true and good and faithful, and then in a little 
while he turns out to be false and knavish ; and then another 
and another, and when this has happened several times to a 
man, especially within the circle of his own most trusted 
friends, as he deems them, and he has often quarreled with 
them, he at last hates all men, and believes that no one has any 
good in him at all. I dare say that you must have observed 
this. 

Yes, I said. 

And is not this discreditable? The reason is, that a man, 

having to deal with other men, has no knowledge of them ; 

for if he had knowledge, he would have known the true 

state of the case, that few are the good and few the evil, 

and that the great majority are in the interval between them. 

How do you mean? I said. 

I mean, he replied, as you might say of the very large and 
very small, that nothing is more uncommon than a very large 
or very small man ; and this applies generally to all extremes, 
whether of great and small, or swift and slow, or fair and foul, 
or black and white : and whether the instances you select be 
men or dogs or anything else, few are the extremes, but many 
are in the mean between them. Did you never observe this ? 

Yes, I said, I have. 

And do you not imagine, he said, that if there were a com- 
petition of evil, the first in evil would be found to be very 
few? 

Yes, that is very likely, I said. 

Yes, that is very likely, he replied ; not that in this respect 



ph^do 445 

arguments are like men — -there I was led on by you to say 
more than I had intended ; but the point of comparison was, 
that when a simple man who has no skill in dialectics be- 
lieves an argument to be true which he afterward imagines to 
be false, whether really false or not, and then another and an- 
other, he has no longer any faith left, and great disputers, as 
you know, come to think at last that they have grown to be 
the wisest of mankind; for they alone perceive the utter un- 
soundness and instability of all arguments, or indeed, of all 
things, which, like the currents in the Euripus, 34 are going 
up and down in never-ceasing ebb and flow. 

That is quite true, I said. 

Yes, Phaedo, he replied, and very melancholy too, if there 
be such a thing as truth or certainty or power of knowing at 
all, that a man should have lighted upon some argument or 
other which at first seemed true and then turned out to be 
false, and instead of blaming himself and his own want of 
wit, because he is annoyed, should at last be too glad to trans- 
fer the blame from himself to arguments in general ; and for- 
ever afterwards should hate and revile them, and lose the 
truth and knowledge of existence. 

Yes, indeed, I said ; that is very melancholy. 

Let us then, in the first place, he said, be careful of ad- 
mitting into our souls the notion that there is no truth or 
health or soundness in any arguments at all ; but let us rather 
say that there is as yet no health in us, and that we must quit 
ourselves like men and do our best to gain health, — you and 
all other men with a view to the whole of your future 
life, and I myself with a view to death. For at this 
moment I am sensible that I have not the temper of a philoso- 
pher; like the vulgar, I am only a partisan. For the partisan, 
when he is engaged in a dispute, cares nothing about the 
rights of the question, but is anxious only to convince his 
hearers of his own assertions. And the difference between 
him and me at the present moment is only this, — that where- 
as he seeks to convince his hearers that what he says is true, 
I am rather seeking to convince myself ; to convince my 
hearers is a secondary matter with me. And do but see how 

34 Euripus (u-ri'pus) : the narrow strait which separates_ Boeotia (be- 
6'shi-a), a province of Greece, from the island Eubcea (Q-be'a), where the 
ancients believed that the current changed seven times a day. 



446 PLATO THE TEACHER 

much I gain by this. For if what I say is true, then I do 
well to be persuaded of the truth, but if there be nothing 
after death, still, during the short time that remains, I shall 
save my friends from lamentations, and my ignorance will not 
last, and therefore no harm will be done. This is the state of 
mind, Simmias and Cebes, in which I approach the argu- 
ment. And I would ask you to be thinking of the truth and 
not of Socrates : agree with me, if I seem to you to be speak- 
ing the truth ; or if not, withstand me might and main, that I 
may not deceive you as well as myself in my enthusiasm, and 
like the bee, leave my sting in you before I die. 
And now let us proceed, he said. 

[Socrates returns to the objection of Simmias which he an- 
swers very easily. Harmony cannot exist prior to the instru- 

m ment with which it is made. We must first have the 
p3 lyre and strings. Harmony follows last of all as an ef- 
fect. Now does the soul follow as an effect of the 
body? Has it not been proved that the soul existed before 
birth, and that all our knowledge is but recollection of what 
we experienced before the soul entered the body? Simmias 
acknowledged that his theory of the soul as a harmony must 
be rejected because it is inconsistent with the doctrine of 
preexistence which to his mind has been proved beyond a 
doubt. 

Again, Socrates says, while one harmony may be more or 
less completely a harmony than another, one soul is no more 
or no less a soul than another. That is, a harmony admits of 
degrees, a soul does not, and therefore a soul is not a harmony. 
Lastly, how can the soul be the harmony of the body when it 
continually opposes and constrains the passions? Harmony 
is subject to the lyre, but the soul is leader and master of the 
body — " a far diviner thing than any harmony." 

Socrates turns next to discuss and answer the objection of 
Cebes, which he says involves one of the most important ques- 
tions of philosophy, namely, how things come into being and 
perish, or the nature of generation and corruption. Here he 
digresses to tell of his own experience when, as a young man, 
he sought to know the causes of all things — why they are cre- 
ated and why destroyed. His investigations and speculations 
led him into many perplexities, so that he began to doubt 



ph^do 447 

even the most commonplace facts. Then he heard of the 
philosopher Anaxagoras, 35 who claimed that Mind was the 
cause and disposer of all things. Socrates was greatly de- 
lighted at this notion, and thought if mind were the disposer, 
surely mind would dispose all for the best. He had great 
hopes that the new teacher would satisfactorily explain to him 
in detail all that he had been seeking to understand and prove 
how everything was for the best in nature and in man. He 
continues:] 

What hopes I had formed, and how grievously was I disap- 
pointed ! As I proceeded, I found my philosopher altogether 
forsaking mind or any other principle of order, but having re- 
course to air, and ether, and water, and other eccentricities. I 
might compare him to a person who began by maintaining 
generally that mind is the cause of the actions of Socrates, but 
who, when he endeavored to explain the causes of my several 
actions in detail, went on to show that I sit here because my 
body is made up of bones and muscles ; and the bones, as he 
would say, are hard and have ligaments which divide them, and 
the muscles are elastic, and they cover the bones, which have 
also a covering or environment of flesh and skin which contains 
them ; and as the bones are lifted at their joints by the con- 
traction or relaxation of the muscles, I am able to bend my 
limbs, and this is why I am sitting here in a curved posture : 
that is what he would say, and he would have a similar expla- 
nation of my talking to you., which he would attribute to sound, 
and air, and hearing, and he would assign ten thousand other 
causes of the same sort, forgetting to mention the true 
cause, which is, that the Athenians have thought fit to 
condemn me, and accordingly I have thought it better and 
more right to remain here and undergo my sentence ; for I am 
inclined to think that these muscles and bones of mine would 
have gone off to Megara or Bceotia, 36 — by the dog of Egypt 
they would, if they had been guided only by their own idea of 
what was best, and if I had not chosen as the better and nobler 
part, instead of playing truant and running away, to undergo 
any punishment which the state inflicts. There is surely a 

35 See Phaedrus, note 55. 

36 Megara (meg'a-ra) : a town twenty miles west of Athens. 



448 PLATO THE TEACHER 

strange confusion of causes and conditions in all this. It may 
be said, indeed, that without bones and muscles and the other 
parts of the body I cannot execute my purposes. But to say 
that I do as I do because of them, and that this is the way in 
which mind acts, and not from the choice of the best, is a very 
careless and idle mode of speaking. I wonder that they can- 
not distinguish the cause from the condition, which the many 
feeling about in the dark, are always mistaking and misnaming. 
And thus one man makes a vortex all round and steadies the 
earth by the heaven ; another gives the air as a support to the 
earth, which is a sort of broad trough. Any power which in 
disposing them as they are disposes them for the best never 
enters into their minds, nor do they imagine that there is any 
superhuman strength in that ; they rather expect to find an- 
other Atlas 37 of the world who is stronger and more everlast- 
ing and more containing than the good is, and are clearly of 
opinion that the obligatory and containing power of the good 
is as nothing ; and yet this is the principle which I would fain 
iearn if any one would teach me. But as I have failed either 
to discover myself, or to learn of any one else, the nature of 
the best, I will exhibit to you, if you like, what I have found 
to be the second best mode of inquiring into the cause. 

[Failing in his endeavor to comprehend the world by means 
of the senses, Socrates took refuge in the world of thought. 
By reflection he arrived at a principle which he regarded 
IO _ as indisputable. Whatever agreed with this he assumed 
to be true, whatever disagreed, false. He wishes now 
to explain what he means by this principle although it is 
nothing new. It is what he has always been repeating in 
his doctrine of ideas. He believes that corresponding to 
every class of material objects or qualities, there is a perfect 
and eternal being which he calls an idea. These ideas exist 
independently of the world of sense, apart from and above it. 
They are the perfect types of which the things in this world 
are imperfect copies. These perfect types are the causes of the 
existence of their earthly copies. For example, there is an 

37 Atlas: An ancient Greek divinity, who was supposed to support the 
heavens on his shoulders. Socrates says that the philosophers referred to 
expect to supplant the legendary Atlas by a physical principle. He be- 
lieves that the true Atlas which supports all things is the Good. 



PH.EDO 449 

absolute beauty, an absolute greatness, an absolute good, and 
the like. Now a thing can be beautiful only by reason of its 
participation in the absolute or perfect beauty, that is, the 
idea of beauty. A thing is made good or great only by the 
indwelling of the idea of goodness or greatness. Socrates now 
applies his doctrine of ideas to the question of the soul's im- 
mortality, as follows : Ideas which are opposite in character 
never co-exist. They mutually exclude one another and never 
pass over the one into the other. Moreover, things in which 
a certain idea forever abides, will never admit the opposite of 
that idea. For example, no odd number will ever admit the 
idea of the even, because the ideas of the odd and the even are 
essentially opposed. So the soul, whose inseparable attribute 
is life, will never admit life's opposite, death. Thus the soul 
is shown to be immortal, and since immortal, indestructible.] 

But then, O my friends, he said, if the soul is really immor- 
tal, what care should be taken of her, not only in respect of 
the portion of time which is called life, but of eternity ! And 
the danger of neglecting her from this point of view does in- 
deed appear to be awful. 38 If death had only been the end of 
all, the wicked would have had a good bargain in dying, for 
they would have been happily quit not only of their body, 
but of their own evil together with their souls. But now, as 
the soul plainly appears to be immortal, there is no release or 
salvation from evil except the attainment of the highest virt- 
ue and wisdom. For the soul when on her progress to the 
world below takes nothing with her but nurture and educa- 
tion ; which are indeed said greatly to benefit or greatly to 
injure the departed, at the very beginning of his pilgrimage in 
the other world. 

For after death, as they say, the genius of each individual, 
to whom he belonged in life, leads him to a certain place in 
which the dead are gathered together for judgment, whence 
they go into the world below, following the guide, who is ap- 
pointed to conduct them from this world to the other : and 
when they have there received their due and remained their 

38 «« For what is a man profited if he shall gain the whole world and lose 
his own soul." — Matt. xvi. 26. 

" Seeing then that all these things shall be dissolved, what manner of 
persons ought ye to be in all holy conversation and godliness." — II. Peter 
iii. 11. 

29 



45° PLATO THE TEACHER 

time, another guide brings them back again after many revo- 
lutions of ages. Now this journey to the other world is not, 
8 as ^Eschylus says in the Telephus, 39 a single and straight 
path, — no guide would be wanted for that, and no one 
could miss a single path ; but there are many partings of the 
road, and windings, as I must infer from the rites and sacri- 
fices which are offered to the gods below in places where three 
ways meet on earth. 40 The wise and orderly soul is conscious 
of her situation, and follows in the path ; but the soul which 
desires the body, and which, as I was relating before, has 
long been fluttering about the lifeless frame and the world of 
sight, is after many struggles and many sufferings hardly and 
with violence carried away by her attendant genius, and when 
she arrives at the place where the other souls are gathered, if 
she be impure and have done impure deeds, or been concerned 
in foul murders or other crimes which are the brothers of 
these, and the works of brothers in crime, — from that soul 
every one flees and turns away; no one will be her compan- 
ion, no one her guide, but alone she wanders in extremity of 
evil until certain times are fulfilled, and when they are ful- 
filled, she is borne irresistibly to her own fitting habitation ; 
as every pure and just soul which has passed through life in 
the company and under the guidance of the gods has also her 
own proper home. 

[Socrates gives a mythical description of the earth, the heav- 
ens, and the interior of the earth with its seas and rivers. This 
is followed by an account of how the dead are judged. 
io8» Thc> se who have committed the greatest crimes are 
hurled into Tartarus never to return. Those who have 
lived neither well nor ill, are punished for their wrong deeds 
and rewarded for the good. Those who have led holy lives, 
especially those who have been purified by philosophy, live 
forever in mansions fair beyond description. 

Socrates continues thus :] 

Wherefore, Simmias, seeing all these things, what ought not 
we to do in order to obtain virtue and wisdom in this life ? 
Fair is the prize, and the hope great. 

39 Telephus (tel'e-fus) : a lost tragedy by ^Eschylus. See Rep., II., note 3. 

40 It was customary to perform rites once a month in honor of certain 
gods of the lower world. These ceremonies took place at road crossings. 



phtEDO 45 1 

I do not mean to affirm that the description which I have 
given of the soul and her mansions is exactly true — a man of 
sense ought hardly to say that. But I do say that, inasmuch as 
the soul is shown to be immortal, he may venture to think, not 
improperly or unworthily, that something of the kind is true. 
The venture is a glorious one, and he ought to comfort himself 
with words like these, which is the reason why I lengthen out 
the tale. Wherefore, I say, let a man be of good cheer about 
his soul, who has cast away the pleasures and ornaments of the 
body as alien to him, and rather hurtful in their effects, and has 
followed after the pleasures of knowledge in this life ; who has 
adorned the soul in her own proper jewels, which are 
temperance, and justice, and courage, and nobility, and 
truth — in these arrayed she is ready to go on her journey to the 
world below, when her time comes. You, Simmias and Cebes, 
and all other men, will depart at some time or other. Me al- 
ready, as the tragic poet would say, the voice of fate calls. 
Soon I must drink the poison ; and I think that I had better 
repair to the bath first, in order that the women may not have 
the trouble of washing my body after I am dead. 

When he had done speaking, Crito said : And have you any 
commands for us, Socrates — anything to say about your chil- 
dren, or any other matter in which we can serve you ? 

Nothing particular, he said : only, as I have always told you, 
I would have you to look to yourselves ; that is a service which 
you may always be doing to me and mine as well as to your- 
selves. And you need not make professions ; for if you take 
no thought for yourselves, and walk not according to the pre- 
cepts which I have given you, not now for the first time, the 
warmth of your professions will be of no avail. 

We will do our best, said Crito. But in what way would 
you have us bury you ? 

In any way that you like ; only you must get hold of me, 
and take care that I do not walk away from you. Then he 
turned to us, and added with a smile : I cannot make Crito 
believe that I am the same Socrates who have been talking 
and conducting the argument ; he fancies that I am the 
other Socrates whom he will soon see, a dead body — and he 
asks, How shall he bury me ? And though I have spoken 
many words in the endeavor to show that when I have drunk 
the poison I shall leave you and go to the joys of the blessed, 



452 PLATO THE TEACHER 

— these words of mine, with which I comforted you and my- 
self, have had, as I perceive, no effect upon Crito. And 
therefore I want you to be surety for me now, as he was 
surety for me at the trial : but let the promise be of another 
sort ; for he was my surety to the judges that I would remain, 
but you must be my surety to him that I shall not remain, 
but go away and depart ; and then he will suffer less at my 
death, and not be grieved when he sees my body being 
burned or buried. I would not have him sorrow at my hard 
lot, or say at the burial, Thus we lay out Socrates, or, Thus 
we follow him to the grave or bury him ; for false words are 
not only evil in themselves, but they infect the soul with 
evil. Be of good cheer then, my dear Crito, and say that 

, you are burying my body only, and do with that as is 
usual, and as you think best. 

When he had spoken these words, he arose and went into 
the bath-chamber with Crito, who bid us wait ; and we 
waited, talking and thinking of the subject of discourse, and 
also of the greatness of our sorrow ; he was like the father of 
whom we were being bereaved, and we were about to pass 
the rest of our lives as orphans. When he had taken the 
bath his children were brought to him — (he had two young 
sons and an elder one) ; and the women of his family also 
came, and he talked to them and gave them a few directions 
in the presence of Crito ; and he then dismissed them and 
returned to us. 

Now the hour of sunset was near, for a good deal of time 
had passed while he was within. When he came out, he sat 
down with us again after his bath, but not much was said. 
Soon the jailer, who was the servant of the eleven, entered 
and stood by him, saying : To you, Socrates, whom I know 
to be the noblest and gentlest and best of all who ever came 
to this place, I will not impute the angry feelings of other 
men, who rage and swear at me when, in obedience to the 
authorities, I bid them drink the poison — indeed I am sure 
that you will not be angry with me ; for others, as you are 
aware, and not I, are the guilty cause. And so fare you well, 
and try to bear lightly what must needs be ; you know my 
errand. Then bursting into tears he turned away and went 
out. 

Socrates looked at him and said : I return your good wishes, 



ph.edo 453 

and will do as you bid. Then turning to us, he said, How 
charming the man is : since I have been in prison he has al- 
ways been coming to see me, and at times he would talk to 
me, and was as good as could be to me, and now see how gen- 
erously he sorrows for me. But we must do as he says, Crito ; 
let the cup be brought, if the poison is prepared : if not, let 
the attendant prepare some. 

Yet, said Crito, the sun is still upon the hill-tops, and many 
a one has taken the draught late, and after the announcement 
has been made to him, he has eaten and drunk, and indulged 
in sensual delights ; do not hasten then, there is still time. 

Socrates said : Yes, Crito, and they of whom you speak are 
right in doing thus, for they think that they will gain by the 
delay ; but I am right in not doing thus, for I do not 
think that I should gain anything by drinking the poison ' 
a little later ; I should be sparing and saving a life which is 
already gone : I could only laugh at myself for this. Please 
then to do as I say, and not to refuse me. 

Crito, when he heard this, made a sign to the servant ; and 
the servant went in, and remained for some time, and then 
returned with the jailer carrying the cup of poison. Socrates 
said : You, my good friend, who are experienced in these mat- 
ters, shall give me directions how I am to proceed. The man 
answered : You have only to walk about until your legs are 
heavy, and then to lie down, and the poison will act. At the 
same time he handed the cup to Socrates, who in the easiest and 
gentlest manner, without the least fear or change of color or 
feature, looking at the man with all his eyes, Echecrates, as his 
manner was, took the cup and said : What do you say about 
making a libation out of this cup to any god ? May I, or not ? 
The man answered : We only prepare, Socrates, just so much 
as we deem enough. I understand, he said : yet I may and 
must pray to the gods to prosper my journey from this to that 
other world — may this then, which is my prayer, be granted 
to me. Then holding the cup to his lips, quite readily and 
cheerfully he drank off the poison. And hitherto most of us 
had been able to control our sorrow ; but now when we saw 
him drinking, and saw too that he had finished the draught, we 
could no longer forbear, and in spite of myself my own tears 
were flowing fast ; so that I covered my face and wept over 
myself, for certainly I was not weeping over him, but at the 



454 TLATO THE TEACHER 

thought of my own calamity in having lost such a companion. 
Nor was I the first, for Crito, when he found himself unable to 
restrain his tears, had got up and moved away, and I followed ; 
and at that moment, Apollodorus, who had been weeping all 
the time, broke out into a loud cry which made cowards of us 
all. Socrates alone retained his calmness : What is this strange 
outcry? he said. I sent away the women mainly in order that 
they might not offend in this way, for I have heard that a man 
should die in peace. Be quiet then, and have patience. When 
we heard that, we were ashamed, and refrained our tears ; and 
he walked about until, as he said, his legs began to fail, and 
then he lay on his back, according to the directions, and the 
man who gave him the poison now and then looked at his feet 
and legs ; and after a while he pressed his foot hard and asked 
him if he could feel ; and he said, No ; and then his leg, and so 
upwards and upwards, and showed us that he was cold and stiff. 

o And he felt them himself, and said : When the poison 
reaches the heart, that will be the end. He was beginning 
to grow cold about the groin, when he uncovered his face, for 
he had covered himself up, and said (they were his last words) 
— he said : Crito, I owe a cock to Asclepius ; will you re- 
member to pay the debt? 41 The debt shall be paid, said Crito ; 
is there anything else ? There was no answer to this question ; 
but in a minute or two a movement was heard, and the attend- 
ants uncovered him ; his eyes were set, and Crito closed his 
eyes and mouth. 

Such was the end, Echecrates, of our friend, whom I may 
truly call the wisest, and justest, and best of all the men whom 
I have ever known. 

41 See Protagoras, note 8. What Socrates meant by this his last speech 
is doubtful. Some hold that he believed literally in Aesculapius as a god, 
that he had actually made a vow to him, and that he did not wi h to die with 
any religious duty unfulfilled. Others hold that he used the language ot the 
popular religion figuratively, that he meant to say that he was now cured of 
the worst possible malady, the earthly life, and that he owed thanks to God 
for this cure. In general, it remains doubtful how far Plato believed liter- 
ally in the religion of his time and how far he used the language of that re- 
ligion figuratively to express higher views. 






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